three words to die for
by Letters and Numbers
Summary: akira kurusu stole hearts. but he never intended to have his stolen back. a game of truth or dare. an innocent prank. a missent text. "i love you." now tangled in a web of danger, deceit, and desire, he must uncover the truth behind Tokyo's mental shutdowns while facing his greatest challenge yet: his lovely confidants. (akira x the ladies) [update: judgement i]
1. day one - three words to die for

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 **three words to die for**

 _All men speak the language of desire. It is the burden of good men to reject it._

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 _ **October 29, 10:42pm  
Cafe Leblanc**_

The room was fatally silent.

They huddled around the table like vultures. One, two, three, four sets of unblinking eyes fastened on the boy with midnight blue hair. They waited for a wrinkle to ridge his complexion, a quiver to form in his voice, any gesture at all that would indicate he would break. But he remained poised. When they barraged him with insults, he ignored them. When they offered him honeyed words, he rejected them. He even kept his composure after they slandered _Sayuri_ , the scoundrels.

Yet the night was young, and as resolute as he appeared, he was still a boy like the rest of them. His breaking wasn't a matter of if, it was a matter of when.

And then, as if to summarily prove that point, the defenses he had so carefully constructed began to crumble. A sudden tremble of his lips. All moved forward in their seats. A slight inhale of breath. All felt the hairs on the napes of their necks stand on end.

A clearing of his throat. All froze with bated breath.

At last he opened his mouth, and the words that poured forth were like music to their ears.

"If I had to choose, I suppose it would be... Akira-san."

The roar of their combined jeers drowned the room.

"That's amazing, Joker!" the cat named Morgana beamed, his large eyes twinkling with admiration. Despite appearing like an ordinary house cat — in reality he was anything but — everyone at the table interpreted his meows as words. "You're so popular, even Yusuke picked you!"

"I totally saw that comin'!" gloated one of the boys, his voice carrying further than his peers. With fierce, angled brows that lacked outer edges and a head of dyed blonde hair, Ryuji Sakamoto fit his status of 'Class Delinquent' to a tee. Leaning back in his chair, one foot pressed against the skirt of the table, he chimed, "Hey, did you hear that man? Yusuke chose you! You must feel super honored right now, huh?"

Akira, a quiet boy with fashionably round glasses, could not help but laugh along. His friends' affections were contagious. Hunching his shoulders forward, he rubbed the back of his head and gave a simple, "Thanks, Yusuke."

On the other side of the table, Akechi, a chestnut haired youth, chided his poor luck. "A fortuitous guess by Sakamoto-kun," he mused, holding his chin in his gloved hand. "Certainly not the outcome that I was expecting."

"Ah shaddup!" Ryuji hollered. "Just because you're an ace detective doesn't mean you gotta pretend like you have everythin' figured out, Akechi. Just admit that I was right and you were wrong for once."

Akechi's demeanor softened at Ryuji's objection. "Yes, I suppose even a broken clock is correct twice a day."

Ryuji blinked several several times in quick succession, then sneered, "Hah! Well then! Glad you see things my way!"

"... Are you serious?" Morgana murmured. "That wasn't a compliment you idiot!"

"Huh?" Ryuji brought his foot back to the floor. "Whaddya mean? Didn't Akechi just tell me I'm right?"

"Do you even know what that phrase means, Ryuji?" Morgana asked, squinting.

"Er... Uh, yeah! It means that I'm right...! Right...?"

"It means that you're only right because of dumb luck, you big baboon!"

"Oh..." Ryuji paused, then snapped, "Oh! What?! Hey, Akechi! You take that back, you effin' bastard!"

Akechi threw his head back with laughter.

"How foolish," said Yusuke, the boy whose turn was right before Akira's. Even after being interrogated by his peers, he maintained a tranquility that betrayed his youthful appearance.

"I guess in Ryuji's case," Morgana teased, "He's only right once a day!"

Ryuji's brows bumped together in an angry scowl. "Huh?! What did you just say about me, you overgrown hairball?!"

"Hey, what did you just call me?!" Morgana shot back.

Chuckling at how swiftly the situation had devolved, Akechi said, "Now, now, settle down you two. At any rate, we should return to the matter at hand. Who is next to answer after Yusuke?"

There was a moment of silence as they counted whose turn it was in their heads. "Ah, it's...!" exclaimed Ryuji as everyone seemed to reach the same conclusion. Leaning his chair to the right, he wrangled his arm around his bespectacled friend. "Akiiiiiira!" he proclaimed in a sing-songy tone, "It's finally your turn buddy! What's it gonna be! Truth... or dare!"

Akira released a long, defeated sigh. "Is it alright if I pass?"

Ryuji scoffed at the notion. "The hell, man?! That's _totally_ against the whole point of the game! This is supposed to be our _boys' night in_ , remember? To celebrate Akechi becomin' one of us! We're supposed to be having fun tonight because those effin' boring girls decided to go shopping together! And you haven't done jack all tonight, so no way in hell you just pass your turn!"

"I too shall not allow you to concede," Yusuke said, arms crossed over his chest. "If I am to be subjected to this inequitable interrogation by our peers for the sake of 'fun', it is only fair that you share in the same fate."

"Yeah, come on Akira!" Morgana cheered. "Join in with us! A true Phantom Thief _never_ backs down from a challenge!"

"Indeed. What kind of precedent would be set for our group if our leader surrendered over a simple game of truth and dare?" The sides of Akechi's lips curled as he offered Akira a sly wink.

He was completely outnumbered. Letting out another sigh, Akira conceded, "Alright, I'll play."

"Nice! That's what I like to hear!" Ryuji laughed as he slapped a flat palm against Akira's back, nearly sending his glasses flying off his face. Rubbing his palms together, he snickered, "Oh man, I bet a quiet guy like you has a bunch'a crazy secrets. What should we ask, guys? What's his favorite part of a girl's body? Who his crush is? Ooo, ooo! Let's ask him if he's seein' anyone right now!"

"Patience, Sakamoto," Akechi said. "After all, it is Akira's choice whether he will be asked a truth or a dare. We must let him decide of his own volition."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say," Ryuji offhandedly replied. "I mean, it's not really much of a choice anyway. We all know Akira's gonna pick truth. The guy doesn't have a single risky bone in him!"

Akechi smiled at Akira. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, I doubt he'll choose dare," Morgana taunted, his nose pointed loftily toward the ceiling. "I bet he's too scared to pick it!"

Noticing Morgana's attempt to goad Akira, Ryuji followed up, "Hah! Yeah, what's the matter Akira? You afraid of a little game of truth or dare? Come on, step up for once! Be a man!"

"Hmph. I shall not partake in this childish taunting," Yusuke began. "That being said, I do hope you decide on dare, Akira-san, for it would be greatly to my benefit. This is the ideal opportunity to ask you to model for me, so I will not back down." Slamming his hand against the table, he rose from his seat and declared his desire to every corner of Yongen-Jaya. "Akira! I believe that at last I am ready to take my art to the next level, but I need your assistance to usher me there. Help me in exposing the transcendent beauty..." Casting his arm forth in a spitting image of _The Creation of Adam_ , he poured the whole of his soul into his request:

"The transcendent beauty of the fully nude male form!"

A torturous silence followed.

"... What the eff man!" Ryuji finally blurted out to disperse the building discomfort. "You want Akira to get... naked?! In front of us?! Right now?! Gah!" He shook his head to purge the image from his mind. "Man, what's up with you and drawin' people's junk!"

"I-I don't want to see that!" Morgana cried as he furiously pawed Akira's arm. "Please, choose truth! Choose truth!"

"I am not asking that you be present, merely that you grant me the opportunity to issue Akira this dare," Yusuke explained. "It would be a truly stimulating experience, would you not agree?"

"No, dude, it'd be mega weird!" Ryuji protested. "Dares are supposed to be funny and a little embarrassing, not... traumatic!"

"So there are limitations to what I can ask of my subject?" Yusuke sighed and fell back in his chair. "How pedantic..."

"Pedantic peshamntic, don't ask him any dares that make him have to get naked in front of us!"

Morgana bobbed his head. "For once, I agree with Ryuji!"

Once there was a lull in the conversation, Akechi turned to Akira and asked, "Well then, what will it be? Truth, or dare?" Again the room grew quiet. The boys remained still as trees as they waited for his answer.

Akira looked at Ryuji, whose face was twisted with concern. Then he looked at Yusuke, whose face was tranquil and calm. Then he stared up at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

"I think... I'll pick dare."

Ryuji and Morgana's jaws fell agape.

"W... what?!" Morgana began panting in disbelief. "But Yusuke will... And then we'll see your... And then... Gahhhhh!"

"Seriously?! You're actually goin' through with this, Akira?! Even after hearing what Yusuke wanted to do to you?!" Ryuji searched for a semblance of understanding in Akira's calm countenance, but to no avail.

In a brief moment of inelegance, Yusuke delivered a haughty, chest-filled laugh. "Ha-ha-ha! Excellent! I knew you would appreciate the ambition of my intentions. Have no fear, Akira, for I shall perfectly immortalize your naked loins in all their glory upon my canvas!"

"No bro!" Ryuji dissented. "Didn't we already tell you, we're not gonna make him pose nude for you!"

"I must agree," Akechi said. "I am fine with most any dare being performed, but even this is quite... extreme for me. I must veto your decision, Kitagawa-kun."

Yusuke crumbled in his seat. "But what about transcending my art?"

Ryuji shot him a harsh leer. "Ah just can it! No one gives an eff about your doodles anyway!"

"You uncivilized brute," he cried. "You take that back immediately!"

While Ryuji and Yusuke bickered with one another, Akechi glanced at Akira and offered him another smile. "Once again, I wasn't anticipating you to answer in such a way. You caught me completely off guard."

Akira lifted his shoulders with a half shrug. "It wouldn't be any fun otherwise."

He chuckled and smoothed a hand over his forehead. "Very true. I suppose I should have expected that kind of an answer from you, though. After all, you are the enigmatic leader of the Phantom Thieves."

Before Akira could reply, Morgana's voice rang in his ears. "Okay then, it's decided!" the feline chimed, refocusing the group's scattered attentions. "Akira is going to be doing a dare for this round! Does anyone have any suggestions?"

Yusuke swiftly opened his mouth to speak.

"We're not doin' anything that involves him getting naked!" Ryuji shouted.

And just as swiftly closed it.

"Well, if no one has any suggestions, I have one in mind!" Morgana said. "Let's have Akira stuff his mouth with curry and sing 'Happy Birthday' to Boss! That would be really funny, nyahaha!"

Ryuji thinned his gaze and scoffed. "What are you, twelve? That's a terrible dare!"

Morgana's face creased with a frown. "Oh yeah? Then why don't you come up with a better one, pinhead!"

"I will!" Grumbling several obscenities, Ryuji scratched the side of his head and drawled, "Uhhhh... let's have him... uh..."

"We're waiting, Ryuji."

"I know, just gimme a second to think, dammit!" Snapping his fingers, he suggested, "Oh, I know! We'll have him run around the track tomorrow morning screaming, 'I love Kawakami-senpai!' That would be funny as hell."

"Ugh, you dunce!" Morgana reprimanded. "We can't do that, that'll attract way too much attention!"

"So? Aren't we supposed to be makin' him do something embarrassing? Why should we care about if other people know or not?"

"Use your brain for once, Ryuji! Won't all those detectives investigating the school find it suspicious that Akira suddenly started making such a commotion at school? They might look into him, and that would completely jeopardize the Phantom Thieves!"

He tugged on the neckline of his t-shirt. "Ah right... didn't think about that…"

"That's because you never think in general, stupid."

"You know, for a useless cat, you're really good at making me angry!"

"So we must ask Akira a dare that is neither too childish nor too conspicuous, yet will still embarrass him," considered Yusuke, holding his chin between his index finger and thumb. "A difficult task indeed…"

"Hmmm..." Akechi's features scrunched with deep thought. "What if we were to take his phone and send a private message of our own creation to someone on his contacts list? We could establish that Akira wouldn't be allowed to clarify to said person that it was his friends who sent the message unless he is there to explain it in person. Surely this wouldn't risk our detection as the Phantom Thieves and also mortify Akira appropriately."

"Man, why does everything you say sound so long and boring?" Ryuji groaned.

"Not everyone has a two syllable vocabulary like you..." retorted Mona.

After several moments of deliberation, Yusuke's expression opened with understanding. "Ah! This is a brilliant dare, Akechi-san. Though it appears initially simplistic, beneath its unassuming exterior is a deeply diabolical ploy. The possibilities for tormenting Akira-san are endless."

"Huh, whaddya mean?" Ryuji asked. "It sounded like a lot of boring mumbo-jumbo to me."

"Let me explain," Yusuke started. "Imagine that we choose to send a compromising message using Akira's phone to anyone on his contacts list. For example, suppose we send, 'You have the most beautiful eyes in the world,' to Takamaki-san. Akira would not able to explain that it was the work of his friends until they next met in person. Hijinx and chaos would certainly ensue. Surely you can see the potential for hijinx."

" T-t-to Lady Ann?" sputtered Morgana, who didn't seem to process the rest of Yusuke's explanation.

It took Ryuji a few more seconds of thought before realizing the dare's ingenuity. "... Oh yeah… Yeah, that sounds amazing! We could totally screw him over! Good thinking, Akechi! You got a knack for this whole deception thing!"

Meanwhile, Akira sat as still as a stump as everyone talked about him as if he weren't present.

Akechi proudly scratched his cheek. "Haha, well, I wouldn't sing praises about me just yet. We do not know if Akira will consent to such a dare. After all, the stakes are quite heavy. One improper text to the wrong person could greatly jeopardize his relationship with them."

"Isn't that the whole point of a dare though?" Ryuji said, turning to Akira. "Come on, just agree to it man! It'll be totally hilarious! And I promise it won't be anythin' life ruining, just a little bit of fun between guys!"

In the moment the dare seemed innocuous enough. And if given more time, they would probably just think of something worse for him to do. "Alright."

"Sweet!" Ryuji said, his face lighting up with devilish delight. He waited until Akira dug out his phone from his pocket and snatched it away from him. Showing his teeth with a wide chortle, he immediately navigated to Akira's contacts. "Heheh, alright then, this is gonna be... what the?" He stared at the screen. "Hey Akira, why don't you have any contacts?"

Yusuke peered over Ryuji's shoulder. "It appears that Akira does not add people's numbers as contacts onto his phone. How queer."

"What gives, dude!" Ryuji wailed. "How do you know who to call or text without adding them to your phone?"

Akira offered a casual shrug. "I have your numbers memorized. Adding contacts takes too much time."

"And remembering them all in your head doesn't? You're a weird guy, you know that?" Sniffing sharply, the loudmouthed blonde groaned, "How are we gonna pick a person now?"

"We could choose a person at random from the individuals he has messaged most recently," Yusuke proposed. "That way, we know the text will be more meaningful as it is someone he has been in recent contact with."

Akechi nodded. "A splendid idea, Yusuke. Let's do just that." Looking at Akira once again, he said, "In that case, we'll need you to exit the room while we deliberate. Please return when we call for you."

Akira acknowledged Akechi's orders with a genial thumbs up and headed downstairs. When he was out of sight, the others convened around Ryuji like a swarm of locusts.

"Hey, give me a bit of space to work here, guys!" he exclaimed. "It's a very delicate process."

"Were you guys being serious earlier about sending a message to Lady Ann...?" asked Morgana, though no one answered him.

"What should we send? Something nasty? Or something really gushy and heartfelt?"

"I believe the message Yusuke provided as an example earlier will suffice," Akechi replied. "It is bitingly romantic, and will certainly evoke a response from the recipient."

"Wait, that's all we're going to send?" huffed Ryuji. "That's so boring! We hit a gold mine of a dare, let's roll with it! Let's write something more risque, something that'll really get the blood boiling! Huh? Whaddya say?"

"Though this is a game for good fun," began Yusuke. "We should not cause needless strife for Akira's personal life. I believe it would be in our best interests not to send a message too excessive that it could potentially harm him."

"I must agree with Yusuke," Akechi followed up. "I wouldn't want to see any harm come to Akira-san."

With a heavy groan, Ryuji relented, "Alright fine, fine. Then, guess I'll just decide for myself who to send this bad boy to!" Swiping his thumb over several potential recipients, a wicked glint flashed in his eyes. "Heheh… Alright, I'll pick this one!"

"H-hey Ryuji…" whispered Morgana. "Are you going to send that text to Ann?"

"How should I know?" Ryuji wrote off, his thumbs tapping away at the keyboard. "I can't even tell who these numbers belong to in the first place. Could be Ann, could be anyone else."

"Do you think I could take a look for a quick second?" Morgana said, hopping onto Sakamoto's shoulder.

"Hey, get off of me you fleabag!" grumbled Ryuji as he swatted Morgana's paw away. "I'll show you once I'm done!"

"H-hey!" he protested. "Stop being an ass, Ryuji! Just lemme look for one second!"

"Quit it! I can't type when you're hanging off of me like that!"

"Lemme see!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Boys will be boys," Akechi sang.

Yusuke shook his head with disapproval. "Such is their nature."

"Stop hogging it all to yourself Ryuji, give it to me!"

"I would if you would eff off for one second!"

"Never!"

"Grrrrrr!"

"Hnnngh!"

"Morgana, stop it! Let go of me! I'm gonna… W-woah! GAH!"

"GYAAAAAH!"

The ground trembled as Ryuji toppled forward, his face planting flatly into the floorboards. His body laid there motionless, and the room drew silent once more. Then, a sudden, frantic cry broke the calm. Poking his head out from under the blonde's chest was Morgana, who gasped desperately for air under Ryuji's immense weight. Clawing at the ground in front of him, he wriggled his body in all directions until at last he slipped free. Panting so hard his ribs were visible with each inhale, he collapsed onto his back, eyes agape, and groaned.

"Goodness, are you alright Morgana? Ryuji?" inquired Yusuke as he knelt down to inspect the two. "Answer me if you are alright."

"Ugh… my face… my beautiful face..." Ryuji lamented.

"I… was almost… crushed to death… by this… dumbass… idiot..." Morana heaved.

Akechi beamed. "Sounds like they'll both make a full recovery."

Pushing off his palms, Ryuji sat up and rubbed the side of his face. It was markedly redder after his tumble. "Yeah, I'm fine. I've gotten worse from the doctor." Glaring down at Morgana, he chided, "And I'm sure I'll feel way better after this stupid furball apologizes for effing up my face!"

"Me?! Apologize to you?!" Morgana whined. "You nearly killed me! You should be the one apologizing!"

Interlocked in their usual quarrel, the two neglected the shattered husk of Akira's cell phone lying splintered on the floor. "It appears there has been an accident," Yusuke said, examining the broken device. He picked it up and attempted to turn it on, but to no avail. It was beyond repair.

"Oh my," whistled Akechi. "That can't be good."

Ryuji's face twisted white as a ghost. "O-oh shit…"

"Joker's…"

Before Morgana could finish his thought, he heard something, a rhythmic thump, thump, thump. It started off soft, but it grew louder and closer with each second. Thump, thump, thump, thump. It suddenly stopped. All eyes fixated on the origin of the noise.

"What's going on up here?"

The room collectively held its breath. "Akira…" Ryuji started, his heart beating so fast it felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. "Wait… I can explain..."

Akira examined the room in deliberate detail, not missing a single minutiae, much like a detective would a crime scene. Without a word from Ryuji, he understood full well what happened. Pinching his brows tightly together as he sighed, he said, "Please tell me you didn't send the message."

The only response was a lone gulp.

"Who did you send it to?"

"I don't remember," Ryuji replied.

"Do you remember the number?"

"N-no dude, I'm sorry..."

Before any more words were exchanged, Akechi stepped forward, his hand placed over his chest. "I apologize, the dare was my idea so the blame lies with me. If you'd like to know, the message we sent was, 'You have the most beautiful eyes in the world.'" Then, as a show of remorse, he bent his body forward seventy degrees, flattened his hands just above his knees, and performed a standing saikeirei. "Please, forgive us for destroying your phone, Akira-san."

Seeing this deeply reverent gesture, Yusuke immediately followed suit, followed by Ryuji, whose form was between awful and inexcusable. Morgana, who was unable to perform such a bow, simply lowered his head in shame.

Akira blinked curiously at his friends' actions, then blushed. "Uh… you don't have to do that, you know…" he said, reaching for the nape of his neck. "As long as none of you are hurt, it's fine. I can just get a new phone."

The others quickly returned to their regular postures, though Akechi gave one final bow of his head to show his gratitude. "Thank you, Akira. And I'm sorry once again, we took this game too far."

"Yes, it was immature of us to tamper with your personal belongings in such a manner. Please accept my humblest of apologies," added Yusuke.

"I promise I'll make it up to you, Joker!" Morgana meowed. "Promise!"

When it came time for Ryuji to apologize, he remained completely silent. He stood still as a pillar of salt, his eyes focusing on the floor where the broken phone once laid. "Akira…"

"It's really okay," assured Akira. "It's not that big of a…"

"No, it's not that," he interrupted. "I didn't send that message Akechi told you I sent… I sent a different one."

Akira blinked.

"What's the meaning of this?" Akechi snapped. "I thought we agreed to only write what Yusuke gave as an example because we didn't want to put Akira's personal life in jeopardy."

"I know, I know!" Ryuji cried, shaking his head in disbelief. "I-I changed it at the last second because… because I thought it would be funnier if I wrote somethin' else. I'm really sorry man, I was going to erase it. But then Mona and I had a scuffle and I…" He swallowed audibly. "I accidentally sent it to someone, and I don't know who it was..."

A frightening chill crept down each of their spines.

"What did you write?" Akira asked, his voice more pressing than before. "Ryuji? What was it you sent in that text?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Ryuji..."

Averting his gaze, Ryuji clamped his hands. Arms shaking, legs locked, breath shallow, he answered, "Akira… I wrote… I sent to a random person on your contacts list…"

Akira didn't know it at the time, but the three words Ryuji had sent would change his life forever.

"' _I love you.'"_


	2. day two - priestess i

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 **priestess i**

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 ** _October 30, 8:32pm  
Shinjuku_**

If he had to describe her makeup, it would be Elizabethan goth meets Flash Gordon.

Billowy red eye shadow plumed the rims of her lids. Liner dark as midnight framed her striking crimson gaze. Four lacquered layers of carefully applied mascara pronounced her long, butterfly lashes.

Yet what he was captivated by most was the demeanor of utter self-confidence she exuded. Through the certainty of her tone, one devoid of any stuttering or pauses, and the directness infused into her stare, like her intent was written clearly upon those scarlet hues, she seemed like a completely different woman than the skittish, closed off girl who had invited him out to dinner earlier that day.

After several long seconds filled only by the clatter of their silverware clinking against their porcelain plates, she spoke to dispel the tension.

"I hear the weather is nice this week. It would be a perfect time to visit Inokashira."

He nodded wordlessly into his entree.

"Would you like to go with me after classes end tomorrow?"

For the first time that night, he met her eyes head on. Blood rushed to his head as he inhaled the last noodle of his pasta carbonara to its very end.

 _Sluuuurrrrrrrrrp… pop!_

As its tail whiplashed backward so fiercely that it nearly struck his glasses, he caught a glimpse of her lush neckline, which exposed her elegantly dimpled collarbones and the cusp of her creamy bosom. Seizing himself in the act, he returned to her face.

Her high-arched brow cambered.

A nervous gulp. Fingering the hem of his sleeves beneath the silky tablecloth, he wiped his mouth into his napkin and remarked, "I'll have to look at my schedule."

Luscious pink lips spread into a flirtatious smile as she leaned forward in her seat, further accentuating her generous cleavage. "Of course. Whenever you're free."

It took everything within him not to stare.

"You know, I've had a wonderful time with you tonight, Akira," she began, her words dripping with temptation. Her velvety voice barely breaking a whisper, she leaned so closely he could practically feel her hot breath tickling his cheek. "But I've been wondering about something. Lately you've been acting differently around me. You've seemed a little... distracted." Her glossy lips tugged apart even wider. "Does it have to do with that thing you wanted to tell me earlier today? What was it exactly that you wanted to say to me?"

Akira felt sweat forming over his brow. How was he going to get out of this mess, he wondered. What was he going to say to her? A miasma of frantic thoughts rushed to his head as he opened his mouth to speak.

To think that only yesterday night he was playing a simple game of truth or dare...

* * *

 _ **October 29, 11:28pm  
Cafe Leblanc**_

"This is all your fault, Ryuji!"

"Don't put this on me, you dumb cat!"

"If not you, then who? Huh!"

"You of course!"

"What! Me?!"

"Yeah you! If it weren't for you jumpin' on top me like some kind of rabid animal, this never would've happened!"

"I just wanted to see what you were texting, you shouldn't have been so stingy with the phone!"

"I told you I'd show you after I was finished! You always do this, you never listen to anything but that stupid, conceited mouth of yours!"

"I'm surprised a fat monkey like you knows what the word 'conceited' means, let alone knows how to use it in a sentence! That new zoo in Shibuya must have some amazing trainers!"

"Why you dirty little...!"

Akira chewed his bottom lip as he observed Morgana and Ryuji's back and forth. Of all the messages to write, Ryuji had to send one of just those three words.

 _"I love you."_

He covered his face with his hand and sighed. This was going to be a headache to fix.

"They squabble like headless chickens," Yusuke reproached.

"It's really not that big of a deal," Akira said, trying to hide his irritation. "It's just a broken phone."

Noticing Akira's rigid body language, Yusuke placed a comforting grip on his shoulder. "While I do not make allowance for their callow bantering, I fear the situation may be more dire than you reckon, Akira. I cannot justify why I feel this way, but I sense that tonight will be the root of much distress for you in the near future."

His actions were completely opposite of his words, Akira thought. He wondered if the painter had ever tried cheering someone up before. "For my sake, I hope not."

"Indeed, my friend." Removing his hand, Yusuke stated, "Still, it is a shame that you could not complete your dare. Perhaps I could offer you another...?" His posture was grandiose and stilted as he waited for Akira's reply.

"I'm not going to pose nude for you, Yusuke."

The contrived air of tranquility surrounding him vanished, replaced by artistic indignation. "Are you truly so uncomfortable with the thought of exposing your body that you would turn down the opportunity to eternalize yourself in my portrait?!"

Akira sighed. "They have pictures of naked men online, you know."

A glint of frenzied excitement twinkled in Yusuke's gaze. "Truly? And where could I procure such pictures?"

He stared over his shoulder and blinked. "... Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that."

"Akira, please!" Yusuke begged. "You cannot deny me your loins and then refuse to reveal to me the whereabouts of these nude men!"

That was a phrase he never thought he'd ever hear spoken aloud. "We really need to teach you the meaning of phrasing, Yusuke."

Between Akira's absurd conversation with Yusuke and Ryuji's seventh argument that day with a cat, Akechi was at his wits' end. This was getting them nowhere. Banging his fist on the table, he shouted loud enough to vibrate the room, "Enough!"

All eyes converged onto him.

Their attentions now held, Akechi straightened his disheveled collar with a stern tug of his tie and said, "It hardly matters who's fault it is now. What matters is the hand we've been dealt. Check your phones, all of you."

Ryuji lifted a brow. "Huh? Why? What good will that do?"

"You didn't know the number of the individual you sent the message to," Akechi said. "Seeing as Akira has messaged us in the past, we know he had our numbers on his phone. Thus, we can conclude you might have sent the message to one of one of us."

"Ah, good deduction, Akechi!" Morgana squeaked. "No wonder they call you an ace detective."

"Ace detective my ass. Anyone coulda come up with that," Ryuji said between his teeth, arms coiled over his chest.

"Your words are too kind, Morgana," Akechi beamed, Ryuji's snide comment going unheard. "Now all of you, please check your phones."

"Well, I don't even have a phone," Morgana said. "So I guess you can count me out."

"I got nothin' on mine," Ryuji said.

"I have received nothing as well," Yusuke said.

"And neither have I," Akechi concluded. "So none of us received the message. This means that it was sent to another person outside this room. Akira."

The black-haired Phantom Thief's brows twitched as he straightened in his seat.

"Do you know all the individuals whose numbers are on your phone?"

"Yeah."

"Then we know it was one of them who received it," Akechi reasoned. "Do you think it would be hard for you to explain everything to them?"

"It's a little embarrassing," he admitted, But it's not a big problem. I'm sure they'll understand."

"You should probably tell them in person, you wouldn't want to cause further confusion over the phone or through another cryptic text," recommended Akechi.

"Good idea. Not that I could text them anyway," Akir said, turning to face Ryuji.

Ryuji locked his eyes on the floor. "Er... right... Sorry. That's my bad."

"In the meantime," continued Akechi, turning to face the others. "It would be best if the details of what occurred here tonight did not spread outside of this room. We should allow Akira to handle this on his own and not cause more needless strife. Understood?"

They nodded their heads in unison, then stared at Ryuji.

Noticing their stares upon him, Ryuji blew a huff of air out his nostrils and shouted, "Hey! What're all of you lookin' at me for? Don't single me out! What he says applies just as much for you guys as it does for me!"

Glancing now at one another, it appeared that Akechi's plan removed the lingering doubts once stamped over the faces. They let out a singular, mental sigh of relief.

"My, what a troubling night this has been," Yusuke said, cradling his forehead in his palm.

"Yeah, I'm totally exhausted. Wanna grab a bite to eat before I head out, dude?" Ryuji asked Akira, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he rose from his chair. The others rose too.

Akira opened his mouth to decline, but found Morgana answering for him instead.

"We should probably pass, Akira. You have school tomorrow after all," the cat replied.

"I mean, we all got school," Ryuji stated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, but he's actually trying to earn high marks and learn to better himself, not barely pass by like you." He stuck his tongue out and flicked his tail against the other's face.

Annoyed, Ryuji swatted it brutishly away. "Hey, have you ever heard of the word unchill? Because that _literally describes you_!"

Not wanting to stick around for yet another feud, Akechi parted, "Well then, I should be heading out as well. Goodnight Akira-san. Thank you for having us over, and for throwing this welcoming party for me. It was truly an eventful evening." After providing a slight bow, he smiled and headed downstairs.

Ryuji followed suit. Wrinkling his nose, he adjusted his backpack straps on his shoulders and called backwards, "Night Akira! See you tomorrow in class. Ah uh... sorry again about your phone," before disappearing down the staircase too.

And lastly, a simple, "Farewell, Akira," from Yusuke as he picked up his belongings and departed.

"Remember to lock the front door on your way out," Akira reminded.

Yusuke nodded. And then he too was out of sight. "Akechi-san," Akira heard him say a few moments later. "Do you happen to know of any websites with pictures of nude men on them?"

"E-eh?"

The bells of the entrance jingled as the front door shut tightly as a vacuum seal. Sighing exhaustedly, Akira let out an airy whistle as he collapsed onto his mattress like a felled tree, gathering his hands behind his head. The ethereal, off-yellow glow of the back alley street lights filtered like bent fractals into his room. As his half-lidded eyes lazily traced the chestnut brown outline of the windowpane, he felt a familiar presence curl up beside his feet. Staring down his bed, he caught a pair of luminescent blue eyes fixated upon him. He smirked. "Shall we go to sleep?"

Morgana trained his gaze on Akira's. "In a bit," he started, his tone unusually apologetic. "But first, I just wanted to say I'm really sorry about what happened to your phone. Because of me, it's broken. It was dumb, I let my feelings for Ryuji get in the way of things again... But gosh, he can be such a _butt_ sometimes!"

Akira smirked and reached down to squeeze the nape of the feline's neck. "I know. But he's our butt."

"Mmm, I guess you're right," Morgana purred, pressing his cheek into the side of Akira's palm with a wide smile. "Sometimes I keep forget that you're the same age."

"We have our differences."

"You can say that again," Morgana interjected.

"But we're both good at our own things."

"Right, like how Ryuji's really good at screwing everything up."

"Morgana," Akira chided. Between constantly reprimanding him and Ryuji, he was beginning to feel like the caretaker of two henpecked husbands.

"It's not mean if it's true," he quipped. "He's always causing trouble and never looking before he leaps. He thinks he can be gung-ho about everything and have it work out!"

"Regardless, you should be nicer to him."

Morgana frowned. "Why? He's always insulting me, calling me names like fleabag and hair ball. And he talks so crudely in the presence of Lady Ann! Besides, I'm way more useful than he is to the group. If anything, he should be nicer to me!"

"It's not a competition, we're all on the same team," Akira noted. "You two have to get along eventually."

"I don't have to get along with him, I just have to suffer through him."

Akira shrugged. He wasn't going to convince Morgana, nor was he going to undertake such an endeavor on a school night. "Well, it's your choice I guess." With that, he rolled onto his side, leaning his head into his portending left arm and closing his eyes.

"... Akira?" Morgana chirped after some time had passed.

He opened one of his lids. "Yeah?"

"Would… I mean, would you still be my friend if I were a cat?"

"Of course," he said, sitting up on the bed. "You'll always be my friend."

Morgana's face glowed, but he wouldn't let Akira see it. "Okay. Good," he replied as he turned away. "I was just curious, that's all. Sorry to bother you."

"Do you not think you're human anymore?"

His eyes widened as he whipped around to meet Akira's question head on. "N-no way! I'm definitely human!" he protested, his voice full of misgivings. "It's just... well... I've been thinking. If I can never return to my human form and I'm stuck a cat forever... would you still want to be friends with me? I mean, I'd be just a cat. A stupid, dumb ball of fur..."

Akira cast a sympathetic gaze toward his companion. "Of course I would always your friend," he said, scratching him behind the ear. "I cherish you."

Morgana's body relaxed, both from his words and the petting. Easing himself back on the mattress, he beamed, "Thanks Akira. That means a lot to me."

"Of course." With one final scratch, he patted the cat on the head and retreated beneath his sheets. "Goodnight, Morgana."

"Sweet dreams, Joker."

For several minutes, Akira stared blankly at the dilapidated grey plaster of his ceiling, his eyes picking apart the contrasting splotches which had grown discolored from rain damage. The small variances between the colors were hardly recognizable, but when he paid close enough attention, he could see the years of wear and tear evident in the multiple layers of paint coating. He began counting them. One layer, two layers, three layers... he hadn't even reached double digits before he fell fast asleep.

At the same time, Morgana released a high-pitched yawn and nuzzled his face into his furred paws. Softly, deftly, he felt the weight of slumber pool over his eyelids. Warmth enveloped him like blankets of diaphanous silk. Furling around him, he was brought to the edge of consciousness. One by one, the connections between his mind and reality were severed, until at last the grasp of night overtook him. His final, nebulous thoughts charted the course of his day as they swirled into the realm of nighttime fantasies.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 7:51am  
Shibuya Station**_

It was 7:51am, and Makoto Niijima was exactly where she needed to be.

Magisterial in posture, her hands were gathered clasped in front of her as she stood unmoving in wait, eyes forward, back straightened. Her tactfully ironed school's uniform did not have a single misplaced thread, and her hazel locks, cut in precisely even strands, fell straightly over her forehead. Her nails were short, fastidiously clean, and filed into perfect half ovals. One might have mistaken her for a young business woman given her stature and austere attitude, but in reality, she was a third-year at the prestigious Shujin Academy, and to her, stateliness, decorum, and punctuality were, above all, the keys to success.

Unfortunately, the subway system couldn't say the same. An influx of mental breakdown cases across the country had left Japan's public transport in ruins, and the Ginza Line, the epicenter of these incidents, was especially crippled. On some days, a train's arrival could be delayed anywhere between ten minutes to an hour, and considering how she had been waiting at the Shibuya Station for the better of thirty minutes, she was starting to believe it was leaning towards the latter.

Rigidly, she bent her arm and checked her watch. 7:52am. The backup must have been particularly bad today, she thought. Maybe there was another accident. She checked her watch again. 7:53am. First period started at 8:30am exactly. She had never been late before, and she wasn't planning on starting any new habits. Watch. 7:54am.

"Shiiiit, don't tell me I missed the train? Ah crap, what am I gonna do! Kawakami's totally gonna kill me if I'm late again!"

Her dead set attention was momentarily drawn to the whining yellow haired boy to her right. She blinked in recognition. "Ah…"

Feeling that he was being watched, Ryuji cast a cursory glance to his side and spotted his admirer. "Hm? Oh, yo! Niijima-san!" he waved as he walked toward her, a gawkish tick in his saunter. "What's up!"

His greeting melted the pedantry of her cold exterior, the sides of her lips tugging upward into a smile. "Good morning, Sakamoto. I see you're running a little late."

"Well, I'm not technically running late if the subway's also running late, right?" he reasoned, rubbing the underside of his nose. "Anyway, how's it going? I usually don't see you on the subway. How was your girls' night out?"

"I usually take the 7:20am train from Shibuya to Shujin, but it appears that it's been heavily delayed today," she explained. "And it was very fun, thank you for asking. How was your boys' night in?"

Ryuji shrugged. "It was whatever. Sucks that you girls couldn't be there, it was weird welcomin' Akechi to our group without the whole group."

"I must sincerely apologize to him for that. We had our girls' night out planned several weeks in advance, and I didn't predict that Akechi would be joining the Phantom Thieves."

"Ah it's whatever, I'm sure he'll get over it." Raising his brows high, he grinned, "Anyway, you girls do anything exciting while you were out?"

"Exciting is such a strange term to use when we're living second lives as Phantom Thieves," she stated. "But yes, we walked around, ate at the diner, and spent some time on Central Street before heading home."

He feigned a yawn. "Wow. Exciting. Real exciting. Almost as fun as watching paint dry."

She shoved his arm teasingly. "Hey. It was a new experience for me, so I liked it."

Ryuji snickered. "Ah that's right, you don't usually go out much, being the student council president and top of the honor roll and all that junk. It was probably a nice change of pace from cooping yourself up in your room and studyin' all day."

"It was certainly different," she agreed. "I'd almost forgotten just how many stores there were in Shibuya, and we didn't even visit half of them."

"Oh yeah, you guys went shopping together. Heh, I bet Takamaki had a blast with that, she's great at spendin' money on clothes and food. And in general."

Makoto's complexion deepened as she recalled the previous night. Her brows knitted as she spoke, "Yes, she was very... passionate. 'Shop 'til you drop' was the term she used, I believe."

"Or as I'm guessing in this case, 'shop 'til your friends keel over and die.'"

She hung her head and sighed. "I could barely keep up with her, she was like a woman possessed. My feet were still sore this morning."

Ryuji hooked his hands on his hips like a cowboy. "Yeeeeah, that's Takamaki for you. Won't let a one-sided debt you owed from elementary school slide, but will run to the ends of Japan for a sale on chocolate truffles and fresh manju."

"If I recall correctly, didn't you promise you'd pay her back for that dolphin and never did?" Makoto taunted.

Ryuji's eyebrows practically disappeared into his hairline. "Y-you still remember that?"

"Everyone remembers the aquarium trip and how you fell into the stingray petting zoo, Sakamoto."

"Sweet. Glad I'm so unforgettable..." he groaned, his expression sinking with an embarrassed grimace. "You'd think everyone would have gotten over it by now."

Makoto giggled, her face softening into a smile as she raised her brows, an unspoken invitation for him to continue.

"I mean, I was only like six at the time. How was I supposed to know there wasn't any glass over the exhibit? That's just asking for trouble..." Dissolving the topic with a wave of his hand, he asked, "Anyway, how'd you guys convince Futaba to come out with you? I've never seen her anywhere besides _Leblanc_."

"Well, the thing is," Makoto began, her tone circling the answer. "She only technically came... and I mean that literally."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

"She fitted a tablet with some of her tech and... told us to carry it around Shibuya to show her around. When we went to the mall and got dinner at the diner, she was there with us to see everything. All from the comfort of Boss' house."

"So she pretty much Skyped into your girls' night out." A wry smile played over his features. "Classic Futaba."

"Though that's hardly the nicest way to put it, you aren't necessarily wrong," Makoto admitted.

He shook his head. "Man, that girl can be so weird sometimes... Still, I'm surprised you managed to convince her to hang out with you guys at all, she's usually shut in her room all the time. Not too different from you though, I guess. Heheh."

"Rude, Ryuji," Makoto scoffed.

"Aw come on Niijima-san, I was only teasing."

Her smile broadened. "Still, I was glad that she came out at all," she continued. "It was mainly thanks to Takamaki-san, she kept pushing for Futaba to hang out with us, saying things like how it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, how it would help her grow, how she'd have a great time. I guess Futaba eventually felt comfortable enough to trust her with at least a tablet."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Ann's a real catch. Even if you don't like her, you can't help but want to. She's pretty, she's kind, she's thoughtful..." He chuckled, "Y'know, I wouldn't be surprised if Akira sent her that message without havin' to be dared..."

Makoto's feet clamped together by the heels at the mention of Akira's name. But it was the second half of Ryuji's sentence that grabbed her attention. "Message?" she pried curiously, lowering her eyes. "Akira sent 'that message' to Ann? What message?"

Just as he opened his mouth to explain the situation, his eyes widened in horror. _"Shit, not again!"_ Clamming up like a scallop, he stuttered, "Oh… oh! I-It's nothing! There's no message! Well, I mean there is a message but… Er, just don't worry about it, Niijima-san!"

She thinned her gaze.

"A-and definitely don't worry about if Akira comes around to talk to you about something!" Ryuji continued, avoiding making eye contact with Makoto. "He's uh… he's doing it with everyone! Yeah, it's nothing special. A-anyway, gotta go! See ya later!"

She watched as Ryuji scampered off with his tail between his legs. Lips pursed in deep thought, she played his words over in her head, a line appearing between her brows. _"Ryuji said that he wouldn't be surprised if Akira sent 'that message' to Ann. And he looked concerned after he said it. Perhaps he wasn't supposed to let me know about it. Could 'that message' mean...?"_

Before she could solidify her thoughts, a monotonous voice rang over the speakers.

"Now arriving at Shibuya Station. Please stand back from the platform."

Absentmindedly Makoto stepped into the subway, crammed into the train along with dozens of other passengers like sardines. As the doors closed behind her, Ryuji's words raced in her head, as well as thoughts of Akira. What could have prompted him to suddenly message her? Did something happen between them? She knew he and Ann were close, but she never imagined they were close like _that_. Yet she couldn't stop thinking about the way Ryuji talked about her. She was pretty, and kind, and thoughtful... and she always hung around Akira.

Makoto felt as if her heart dropped into her stomach. _"No... Have I waited too long_?" she thought, biting the nail of her thumb. _"Did I miss my chance to tell Akira how I feel? How he makes me feel...?"_ Anguish washed over her. She hadn't meant to delay so much, she was going to tell him eventually. It just... She couldn't find the right words to say one day, and she found herself with too many words the next. It was never 'just the right time,' and she was always waiting for that one, perfect moment, whether it was beneath the stars or alone on the beach, to confide in him, to divulge all the secrets of her heart. But now, she might never have that opportunity. It made her feel weak. It made her feel incompetent. It made her feel...

"Er, h-hey, Niijima-san..."

Makoto glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, she spotted Ryuji standing behind her. Like all the other riders, he was squeezed tightly into a sea of people. With his face just a few millimeters from touching the back of her head, he chuckled, "Eheh... so... Crazy to see you here..."

 _"So much for seeing him later..."_ Embarrassed by the proximity of their bodies, she concentrated on the floor and tried to camouflage her oncoming blush. "Hello again, Sakamoto..." Suddenly, everyone jerked forward as the wheels of the subway began rolling slowly forward, and Makoto found herself practically pressed up against the blonde's chest. She looked up at him. He looked down at her. And like two strangers who had accidentally brushed hands, they swiftly looked away from each other.

This was going to be a long ride.

"So uh... Nice weather we're havin'...?"

* * *

 _ **October 30, 11:48 am  
Shujin Academy**_

" _Ay, dios mio..._ No no, class, it's _in-ev-it-a-ble_ , not _unenviable_. Say it out one syllable at a time with me. _In..._ "

The ride to school left much to be desired. Makoto hoped that after parting ways with Ryuji, she would be able to focus on school. However, his earlier words left a strong impression in her mind. The meaning of 'that message,' the nervousness he exuded, the mention of Akira and Ann... Normally Makoto was not one to worry about such petty gossip, but when it involved Akira...

"Niijima-san."

The more she thought about it, the more sense it made that he liked Ann. After all, he did spend a great deal of time with her after school, sometimes with Ryuji, sometimes alone. She thought of them as friends, but given the circumstances of Sakamoto's actions, she had to reconsider that stance.

"Niijima-san."

" _If I could just ask Sakamoto what he meant by 'that message,' then everything would be so much clearer. Then I wouldn't have to worry about never being able to tell Akira..."_

"Niijima-san!"

Makoto jumped in her seat. Sitting up imperially straight, she shook her head and turned her attention to Ms. Chouno.

"Now, if you're done staring off into space," Ms. Chouno hummed. "We're waiting for your answer, Niijima-san."

Her cheeks began to redden. "I'm sorry... I don't believe I heard the question."

Ms. Chouno clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Tsk tsk tsk. Student council president or not, I will not accept inattentiveness in my class. Please pay attention more in the future, Niijima-san."

"Yes, Ms. Chouno," she answered, sinking into her chair. It wasn't a moment later that her classmates began buzzing rumors around her.

"No way, was Miss Prez spacing out?" whispered a voice from the back of class.

"Honor Roll Nijiima wasn't paying attention?" said another. "What kinda hope do I have in this class if even _she_ can't be bothered to learn the material!"

"This must seriously be a first."

"Ohmigosh, just look at how red her face is getting!"

Just as the murmurings began, Ms. Chouno smacked a flat palm against the chalkboard, causing the whole class to jolt to attention. " _Silencio!"_ she shouted. "Just because I am not speaking directly to you doesn't mean you can freely squabble amongst yourselves! This class is for learning English, not gossip! Now then, does anyone have the answer?"

The babblings of the room dissipated into scattered coughs and whistles. No one seemed capable, or willing, to answer the Ms. Chouno's question.

"It's a gerund," someone suddenly responded from the back. All necks whisked around to see the origin of the voice. "Most verbs can be turned into nouns by adding the 'ing' suffix. They're called gerunds."

Ms. Chouno clapped excitedly. "Yes, exactly right, Takamaki-san! Excellent answer."

No sooner than she answered the question did the room once more erupt with secretive susurrations.

"Wow, I can't believe Takamaki-chan got the question right…" hushed one of the boys beside Makoto.

"She's only a second year and she's taking third-year English," said a girl in the front.

"She's a model and she's smart… think I have any chances with her, dude?"

"Nah man, she's always hangin' out with Sakamoto and that exchange student. She definitely likes bad boys."

"Isn't she from America?" hummed another boy.

"No, she's from Finland," replied his friend.

"But she speaks English?"

"Yeah, really well."

"That... doesn't make any sense."

Ann Takamaki was a second year at Shujin Academy. A foreign exchange student and a part-time model, for many of the boys, she was the spitting image of beauty. Beautiful blonde hair, a curvy, hourglass physique, and long, slender legs, she was like an ancient Greek statue of Aphrodite come to life.

She also happened to be one of Makoto's closest friends. The two were both members of the Phantom Thieves, and they often met after school to study, fight injustice, or simply spend time together. Up until today, their friendship had gone off without a hitch, each comfortably understanding their own weaknesses and flaws and admiring the other for their strengths.

But for one tiny, brief sliver of a second, Makoto felt a twinge of jealousy.

"Anyway, that's all the time we have for today," Ms. Chouno said. Even though the period hadn't ended, her words were approval enough for the other students to begin packing up their knapsacks. "Remember, read chapter 18 for tomorrow and come to class with the homework prepared, just the odd questions between 1 and 30, Section A. We might be having a pop quiz on the material, so learn it thoroughly!"

Then the bells rang, and the low, reverberating bellow of desk legs dragging against old wooden floors clogged the classroom.

Amidst the stampede to leave the classroom, Makoto was the last to rise from her chair. She moved lethargically, her mind still distracted by the fact that she was caught inattentive in the middle of class. _"What's going on with me? How could I let myself get distracted like that?"_ she chastised, clutching her notebooks tightly to her chest. _"I need to focus on my studies, regardless of if Akira sent her that message. I can't let myself get preoccupied with thoughts of..."_

She didn't make it further than three steps out the door before she heard a voice calling her name.

"Hey, Makoto, wait up!"

Glancing backwards, she saw Ann tailing after her, her notes scattered messily in her arms and a wide, doe-eyed smile spread across her face.

It was infectious to say the least.

Finding her own lips curling into a smirk, Makoto glowed, "Hello, Ann. How's school been for you today?"

Ann offered a wide, closed-eye grin as she walked alongside Makoto. "Great!" she cheered, a bounce in her step. "Me, Akira, and Ryuji were sending each other notes all during history, we barely learned anything at all. Might be a problem, but nothing a bit of last minute cramming can't solve! Also, Ryuji sent me this really funny meme too, the one with the guy sprinkling salt all over things. It was like... ah, what was the caption again? Hehe, I'm laughing just thinking about it. Here, lemme find it, it was actually so funny."

Makoto smiled at her eagerness. "That's okay, you can send it me later. I'm sure it's really funny."

"It really was! I can't do it justice by just talking about it, I have to show it to you. I almost laughed out loud in the middle of class, the teacher was wondering what was happening with me. I promise you'll think it's hilarious!"

"I'm sure I will." As she motioned to check her phone, her sights turned to the time. 11:54pm. "Shoot," she buzzed, sticking her device into her handbag. "I'm sorry Ann, I'd love to stay longer to talk, but I have to get going to my next class. I'll see you la-..."

"Oh wait!" Ann interrupted. "Your next class is P.E., right? Let's walk together, I have class on the other side of the gymnasium today."

Makoto nodded. "Okay, but we should hurry. We don't want to be late."

"For sure!"

Makoto's steps carried an urgent gait as she hurried to class, Ann's a care free one. Whereas the former was focused on getting to where she needed to be, the latter was more interested in arriving when it was convenient. She didn't hesitate to bring up a conversation in the middle of their walk.

"So! Did you hear about the new place opening up in Shinjuku?"

Makoto passed Ann a brief glance. "No, what is it?"

"It's a sweets shop! They're going to be selling all kinds of deserts there, like key lime pies, tiramisu cakes, dark chocolates..." she sighed. "Mmm, I'm getting so hungry just thinking about it!"

"That sounds perfect for you."

"I know, right!" Ann exclaimed. A skip in her steps, she gradually began to pull ahead of her friend. It seemed that for every step she took, Makoto needed two. "Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the grand opening next Monday after school. I hear everyone who shows up gets a voucher for free truffles! Free!"

"I'd love to," Makoto said, "But I'm going to be busy that day."

"Aw, am I too lame to be seen with you in public, Makoto?" Ann quipped. "What more do I have to do to get your attention!"

Her body tightened with disquiet. "My sister isn't going to be home that day, so I need to watch the apartment for her while she's gone. Otherwise she might get suspicious and our infiltration of her Palace will fail."

Ann's blithe tone disappeared behind furrowed brows. "Oh..." She tucked several strands of her platinum hair behind her ears. "Niijima-san... I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's fine. Like you said, you didn't know."

Soon Makoto felt as if she were taking three steps for every one of Ann's.

"You know," Ann started again after some time had passed. "I've been working out with Ryuji and Akira recently. I've been trying to get better at running."

She nodded. Four steps to Ann's one.

"Whenever we go into the Metaverse, I'm always so impressed by how much stamina and strength everyone has, especially you! I realized that if I wanted to make myself more useful, I should also be training in the real world, too!"

Five to one.

"Maybe you could teach me some of your tricks, Niijima-san. I mean, if you have the time to. I know you're really busy, so I don't want to bother you or anything."

Makoto's disquiet had only grown since she mentioned her sister's Palace. She had almost forgotten that the Phantom Thieves unanimously agreed to infiltrate it. She didn't want to agree though. She wanted to believe she didn't even have a Palace. It was her sister, after all, and the only living member of her family she had left. And even though she conformed with the rest, it hurt. It hurt that her sister was just another evil-doer in their eyes, that nobody save Akira seemed to even consider just how difficult this infiltration would be for her. It might have been necessary, but... After seeing what happened to Kamoshida, Madarame, and all the others who the Phantom Thieves had stolen hearts from, she wondered if her sister would end up like them: a sad husk of her former self. _"Oneesan..."_

"Makoto? Are you alright?"

Ann's expression stuck with worry as she stood before Makoto. "Are you okay?" she reiterated. "You seem a little distracted. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Makoto shook her head. "I'm fine," she said. "Just tired from studying late last night, that's all."

But Takamaki didn't buy her act. She tapped her finger against her scrunched lips and recommended, "Well, maybe we can go to Shibuya after school today to help fix that!" she exclaimed. "I'll ask Haru and Futaba too! We could make it two girls' nights out in a row. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"I'm sorry, I'm busy tonight," Makoto replied. "But maybe another time."

Ann's expectant smile disappeared with a heavy sigh. "Makoto... I'm sorry I brought up your sister earlier. I didn't mean to remind you of... well, of the infiltration."

"It's fine," Makoto said.

"I know it must be really hard on you to have to do this to her, but it's the only way. We wouldn't have all agreed if there was any other option."

"It's fine."

"And if I ever seem like I don't care or anything, please let me know. The last thing I'd want to do is-"

"I said it's fine, Ann," Makoto flashed, a brief flicker of anger in her eyes. "Now please, let's keep moving. We're going to be late for class."

Ann recoiled. Hearing the finality of those words, she complied, "Oh... okay. Well... if you ever want to talk, you know I'm always here for you, right Makoto?"

"Of course." Starting up her pace once more, leaving Ann behind her, Makoto felt her breathing stiffen. A sudden wave of regret washed over her. Why was she thinking about her friends as if they were the enemy? They were going to help rid her sister of her distorted desires. They were trying to save her from herself. Even if she didn't like it, she knew better than to blame them for her sister's faults. They didn't deserve that. Ann didn't deserve that. Exhaling sharply, she stopped in her tracks and turned to face her. "Um, Ann..."

The blonde's ears perked to attention. "What is it, Niijima-san?"

"I'm sorry that I snapped at you," she apologized, holding onto her arm. "I really would like to spend another night out with you, Haru, and Futaba. It was a lot of fun, maybe the most fun I've ever had with anyone else. Do you think we could reschedule it to another day when I'm more free? I'm quite busy tomorrow."

That peppy attitude of hers suddenly returned in full. "What, are you talking about that English quiz we have tomorrow? You'll do just fine on that, you know the material better than me, and I'm like basically a native speaker!" Ann persuaded, circling around her like an excited puppy. "Come on, let loose a little, Niijima-san! It'll be fuuuuun, I pinky promise! Hanging out with you is like... I don't know. It's like hanging out with the older sister I never had!"

 _"Like the sister I never had."_ Makoto smiled in earnest, "Thank you for the invitation, Ann, but I really do have to pass." There was a momentary pause as she considered her next words. "... But I really do appreciate you trying to spend time with me. I know I'm difficult to plan around, and I think I'm just a little stressed right now with everything going on in school and with the Phantom Thieves... But once this week is over, I promise I'll go out with you. We're best friends after all, right?" She offered her a bright, sincere beam to alleviate Ann's worries.

Ann's countenance brightened. "Right! And it's okay, I understand! We can just hang out some other time!"

The weight in Makoto's chest lifted and her smile blossomed. "It'll be a great time, I just know it." Realizing what time it was, she concluded, "But we should really hurry. If we're late, Narumoto-senpai will make us do double laps."

"Yikes! You're right, let's go go go!" With a little hop to her step, Ann walked beside Makoto, their steps matching one for one. "Anyway," she began with an exaggerated simper. "Did you see the way Nagai-san was staring at you after class? I think he's _totally_ interested in you!"

Makoto's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "What? That can't be right."

Ann's cheeks dimpled. "Hehe, what are you talking about! You're pretty, and smart, and responsible. Guys love that!"

With her ill thoughts set aside, Makoto chatted with Ann the remainder of the way to class. And none was the wiser.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 12:32pm  
Shujin Gymnasium**_

"Come on Makoto, pick it up! You've got to climb faster! Faster!"

Even though she was the most physically capable of the Phantom Thieves, Makoto was never good at the climbing rope. Her hands would always get burns and bruises from mishandling it, and the bulky, straw-like knots that littered its length were difficult for her to properly grab onto. She only made it about two thirds of the way up before the instructor called up to her from the bottom of the rope.

"Alright, that's enough! Come down!"

Makoto swore under her breath. She was sure she would reach the top this time. Slowly she descended, frustration visible on her sweat covered face.

"Good effort Niijima, keep working on it. You'll get to the top one day at this rate."

Even if he didn't mean for it to be a condescending remark, it certainly sounded like one. _"I'll get to the top one day at this rate?_ _How long will it take 'at this rate'_ _anyway?"_ She sighed and wiped the sweat from her brow. _"I'll just have to work harder at it, I suppose."_

As she ruminated over her situation, she heard a pervasive, deafening cheering coming from the other side of the gymnasium. _"Hm? What could that possibly be?"_ she wondered. Walking to the middle of the massive hardwood court, she brushed aside the curtain that delineated one part of the gym with the other and peered into the other half.

To her surprise, it was Takamaki sprinting back and forth between two marked cone lines. It seemed that the second years were taking the pacer physical fitness test. Except it wasn't the second years, only Takamaki.

"You can do it, Ann!" cried one of the girls from the crowd. "You can totally beat that record!"

"No way, is Takamaki seriously going to break the women's pacer test record for the school? That hasn't been broken in like, six years!" exclaimed one of the boys.

"There we effin' go, Takamaki! You better break that shitty record right here 'n now!" called Sakamoto, his face lit with excitement.

Makoto swallowed. When did Takamaki get so good at sprints, she wondered?

"That's one-hundred and four, Takamaki. Two more and you break the school record!"

Watching Ann run the pacer test with such grace humbled her. Just what had she been working on these past few months? How had she improved so little by comparison? She had been working every day to go out more, to go to the gym, to raise her self-confidence.

And yet Ann, who was a year younger, already felt miles ahead of her.

"One more, Takamaki. Just one more!"

Despite the bagginess of her gym clothes, Ann's body radiated beauty. Her elegant gazelle-legs were on full display as she pranced back and forth during each sprint. From the taut curves of her toned calves all the way up to the soft, supple skin of her thighs, they were the perfect combination of seductive and graceful. Her face, though dripping with sweat, carried an expression of determination that was both alluring and empowering.

The gymnasium suddenly roared with screams and applause.

"YES! Ann, you're AMAZING!"

"Oh my gosh, Takamaki actually broke the record!"

"No way, Ann did it!"

"Seriously? She's pretty, smart, _and_ athletic? What doesn't she have?"

"There we effin' go, I knew you could do it!"

"Ann! Ann! Ann!"

Her peers encircled her in a wide mosh pit. Showering her with praise, they helped her up and surrounded her like moths to a flame, drawing closer to her as if her talent would rub off on them. Takamaki laughed wearily and turned to hug Ryuji, who yelled praises from the top of his lungs to the other second years.

She looked so happy.

Makoto felt a steady beat in her diaphragm. She had never received the same recognition as Takamaki did, despite her achievements. She had no one to share her accomplishments with, no one who cared about her successes. When others saw her name at the top of the class rankings after exams, they would shoot her icy glares. No one cheered her on. No one told her she was amazing. Even around her classmates, she felt surrounded by strangers wearing familiar faces. Because in the end, in her mind, no one truly cared about Makoto Niijima, the useless, eavesdropping student council president.

It hurt to be forgotten.

"Impressive," said a voice beside her.

Curiously turning to face it, Makoto's heart skipped a beat.

"Oh, Akira-san," she said, caught off guard by his presence. Her posture straightened and her arms gathered behind her back. "It's nice to see you."

He nodded. "You as well, Makoto."

Looking over Ann, who was being swarmed by her classmates, Akira thought of the best way to bring up the texting situation to Makoto.

" _What should I say,"_ he contemplated. _"Something along the lines of, hey, if you got any weird texts last night from me, I'm sorry. That wasn't meant for you, it was… no, no that implies it was actually meant for someone. Bad idea. Keep thinking..."_

Makoto, who was also overlooking Ann at the same time, mistakenly believed that Akira was thinking about the blonde, his gaze lost in her beauty. She couldn't help but notice how deeply in thought he appeared, as evidenced by his lowered brows and tightened jaw. _"So it's true, what Ryuji said,"_ she sulked inwardly. _"Akira really is interested in Ann."_

" _You're a great girl, you are, but I'm actually not interested in anyone right now…"_

" _I guess I should have seen it coming. They spend so much time together, and she was one of his first friends here. I just wish I'd gotten the opportunity to tell him how I felt."_

" _I'm sorry, I'm taken. Yusuke and I are lovers and we're going to sail away together to Venice on a gondola."_

As Makoto stood in silence beside her crush, a sudden resolve quaked within her. Why was she pitying herself? She was intelligent, and beautiful, and kind, and resolute. She had awoken to her Persona in Kaneshiro's palace and proved the resilience of her justice. Her worth to the Phantom Thieves was invaluable, and they were lucky to have her. She wasn't a second placer any longer, she was her own woman.

She was done living in other people's shadows.

" _I won't let this go,"_ Makoto thought to herself. _"I've allowed too many opportunities pass me by because of my inability to act. If Akira hasn't asked Ann to be his girlfriend, then it's not over yet. I'll just have to tell him how I feel. How I really, truly feel."_

" _Okay, I guess that's the best approach I can take with this,"_ Akira finished pondering to himself. _"Let's just hope this doesn't blow up in my face."_

"So," Akira finally said after what seemed like an eternity. "You're looking well today."

Makoto offered a weak smile, her hands trembling from what she was mustering the strength to say. "Thank you, Akira."

Clearing his throat, Akira continued, "If you don't mind and have some time, I wanted to ask you something."

"Actually," Makoto intervened, staring up longingly at him. Her deep red gaze met his cool, grey gaze. "I wanted to speak to you about something as well."

"Oh?" Akira hummed. "What's on your mind?"

She collected her breath.

" _Okay, here it goes. Be strong, Makoto. Just ask him right now. No turning back."_

She inhaled deeply.

"Akira-san…" Makoto started, still holding her eyes upon his. Her mouth opened, but her lips seemed incapable of forming the words.

Akira leaned in to hear her better. "Yes?"

She watched breathlessly as he closed the distance between them. The world was moving in slow motion, the stars aligning in perfect unity. It was as if Akira knew what she was going to say and wanted to give her the perfect, romantic opportunity to say it. It was his desire for physical intimacy that gave her the courage to speak.

"Would you… would you like to go on a dinner date with me tonight?"


	3. day two - priestess ii

**A/N:** Hey guys, thanks for the overwhelming amount of support through views, reviews, favorites, and follows! I really appreciate each and every one of them.

* * *

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 **priestess ii**

* * *

 _ **October 30, 12:40pm  
Shujin Gymnasium**_

His stomach twisted.

Whether it was extrasensory perception, premonition, or just gut instinct, Ryuji was suddenly overcome by a brick-wall sensation of dread. Running from the nape of his neck to the soles of his feet, it felt like currents of electricity pouring into his limbs.

And just as quickly as it swept through his body, it dissipated.

Ryuji lost his balance and propped himself against a wall for support. _"What the eff was that?"_ he thought. _"Was that deja vu or something?"_ He tried gathering his thoughts, his complexion wrinkling and the commotion of his peers dulling into white noise. He was in a gymnasium, and there was some kind of contest, and Akira...

"Hey Ryuji," shot a voice from his right. "What's wrong? Not gonna celebrate my victory with me?"

He lifted his head.

A stupidly large grin, a pair of cerulean blue eyes, and a stunning complexion greeted him. Standing straight with her hands hooked on her waist, her right hip jutting out flirtatiously, Ann Takamaki stuck out her tongue and pestered, "Come on, what happened to that boundless energy you were mentioning earlier? Don't tell me that was all talk."

Ryuji thinned his gaze and snorted. "As if. I'm just not feelin' myself right now, that's all."

"Oh? And why's that?" Her hands gathered on the shallow of her back.

"Because I'm just not," he stated, "Now stop gettin' on my case."

Her brows pulled together in earnest. "You sure? You had me worried when you suddenly left. Is there anything you want to talk to me about?"

Ryuji's complexion softened as her svelte concern reached his ears. His arms, which were coiled over his chest, began to lower. But just as he was about to speak, he heard several of their peers call out from behind her.

"Hey, Takamaki-san! What're you doing over there with that loser Sakamoto? Come hang out with us!"

"Yeah Takamaki, don't you know that he's bad news?"

"Ew, why is Sakamoto talking to Ann? Does he like, like her or something?"

"I think they're friends or something… I bet she pities him."

"Hey, if Sakamoto is good friends with Takamaki, do you think I have a chance too?"

"Dude, I told you last time, you have **zero** chance with her. Period!"

Ann glimpsed at the ogling crowd, then offered Ryuji a sympathetic look. She knew about his reputation at the school, and truthfully, until the incident with Kamoshida, she had let him drift away from her. A pang of guilt rose in her throat. "Ryuji..."

He let out a short, guttural grunt. "Nevermind," he said. "It's nothing."

She sighed. "Come on Ryuji, those guys don't know what they're talking about. You know you're one of my closest friends. And if you're not feeling well, you can tell me. You can always tell me anything."

She was right. He knew Ann ever since they were children, and she was a good, honest soul. He really did feel like he could tell her anything. However, even if he wanted to speak, he reasoned that if he talked about his issues to her, he might reveal Akira's secret again. And after that debacle with Makoto on the subway, he wasn't going to take a chance like that again. "Yeah right," he grumbled. "As if I'd admit anything to you, blabbermouth."

"Hey!" Ann cried. "What's that supposed to mean, Ryuji? I'm not a blabbermouth, I wouldn't ever tell anyone anything you told me."

"I mean, the one time I told you what was up with me, you basically told the whole school about it."

"What are you talking about? I'd never do anything like that to you."

"Oh yeah? Remember that one time I fell on my ass in recess and got my pants all dirty?" he said. "And when I told you about it, you said that I'd pooped myself to all the other kids?"

Ann squinted trying to recall the memory. Then she sputtered in disbelief, "What! **That?!** That was in fourth grade! Are you still seriously holding onto a grudge over that?"

"Hey, you weren't the one getting called Mr. Poopy Pants for the rest of the year!" he shouted back.

"Fourth grade, Ryuji!"

"It was a seriously traumatic event, I don't know if I can trust you again!"

"I was nine!"

"So was I!"

"Ugh, you're such an idiot!"

The two simultaneously huffed and spurned the other with crossed arms and lowered gazes. Then their eyes met, and they couldn't help but feel their frowns bloom into laughter.

"It really did look like I pooped myself though," Ryuji admitted with a grin.

"And the look on Ms. Yamamoto's face when I told her about it was priceless," Ann added.

"She called my mom and everythin', I thought I was gonna get grounded for a year."

"You were crying in the principal's office and telling me how much you hated me."

"And you looked like you were gonna cry too when you got called down with me."

They smiled and their eyes glued to the floor once again. Ryuji combed a hand through his thicket of dyed hair. Ann rubbed the back of her wrist.

"I'm glad you wanted to be my friend again, Ryuji," Ann said solemnly.

Ryuji looked up. An expression of remorse crossed Ann's face. "You don't have to say that."

"But I want to say it," she continued, not looking into his eyes except for a short flash. "It wasn't fair of me to ignore you like that. You were hurting, and I didn't do anything. I'm sorry."

Ryuji wrenched his gaze from hers and hung his head. He floundered for an appropriate response. After Kamoshida broke his leg and the track team was dissolved, Ryuji became the outcast of Shujin Academy. Ann, who had been his friend since childhood, slowly distanced herself from him. She didn't want to be seen associating with a troublemaker, a problem child, in high school. Her reputation was on the line. It wasn't a pretty truth, but there was no way to paint it. So far, they had managed to skirt around talking about the issue. It was an elephant in the room that both of them understood existed, yet neither acknowledged. But she just had to bring it up in this moment, when he was feeling the least prepared for this talk.

He grabbed onto his left wrist and idly rubbed it with his thumb.

"It's okay Ann, it's in the past."

Ann checked his eyes. They weren't on hers. "Okay," she replied.

A blanket of silence quilted them, muted only by the clamor of their classmates on the other half of the gymnasium.

Then, Ann spoke. Only it wasn't quite the words Ryuji was expecting.

"Is that Makoto? What's she doing over here?"

Upon hearing her words, Ryuji spun his head and glanced at where her eyes pointed. His pupils shrunk into dots when he saw who Makoto was with.

" _Oh shit, Akira!"_

There was no time to waste. If she was talking to him, especially now of all times, he could only surmise one possible conclusion. As nonchalantly as he could muster, Ryuji began taking measured steps backward in an attempt to bring their conversation to a close. "Hey, uh, it was real nice talkin' to you Ann. Let's grab dinner sometime soon, okay?"

She tilted her head at an angle. "Hm? What do you mean?"

"Oh, uh, nothing," he sputtered, his steps hastening. "Anyway, see you later! I'm gonna… er, I'm just gonna talk to Akira real fast! I just remembered we totally made plans for tonight, and I need to make sure he knows about them. Later!" He cut his hand from his forehead to salute farewell before breaking into a sprint.

"Hey, Ryuji! Where are you…?" Ann called after him. By the time the words left her mouth, he was out of reach. Warring emotions crossed her countenance with kaleidoscopic swiftness. With a final, resounding huff, she muttered, "Hmph... Idiot..." and returned to her sea of fair-weather idolaters.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 12:45pm  
Shujin Gymnasium**_

Her eyes flickered like the embers of a stoked fire.

Her pulse pounded in her throat. Staring up at Akira, whose countenance tightened with contemplation, she could only imagine what profound thoughts raced through his mind. " _Will he say yes?"_ she wondered, examining the crease of his lips, the slight dip of his gaze. _"Or is he thinking of a way to let me down easily?"_

There was a time when Makoto Niijima believed the man she would fall in love with would, like a checklist to fulfill, meet a series of stringent requirements. Yet standing face-to-face with Akira, she understood love was not like a question seeking to be answered, but the feeling of being swept away. It was the feeling of knots in your windpipe, of butterflies in your stomach.

It was the feeling of being wanted.

She watched his abstracted face, seeking his answer in those framed eyes. _"Even if he says no, at least I've finally told him how I feel,"_ she thought. But naturally she sought an answer that reciprocated her feelings for him. For that, she could only wait for his response.

And judging by the time it took for him to reply, he was surely caught in a deep, unresolved conflict.

" _... Do I have to pay for her dinner if I say yes?"_

The expenses Akira incurred as the leader of the Phantom Thieves — equipment, medical, and otherwise — devastated his budget, No amount of Ryuji's offerings of instant ramen or Yusuke's class paintings were enough remuneration to pay him back. And while he certainly would have enjoyed going out to dinner for once, he sincerely doubted his ability to cover for himself and Makoto. It seemed he would have to suffer another night of microwaved leftovers.

His stomach growled.

" _... Maybe if I don't bring it up, she won't either."_

Pushing his glasses up his face, Akira coolly placed his left hand in his pocket and reiterated, "A date?"

The lone word caused Makoto's heart to skip a beat. "Yes," she replied, swallowing her nervousness. She hadn't prepared anything to say in the event that he answered yes. And despite her quick wit, she was left speechless as he stared at her, as if he were waiting for more of a response. "A date." Akira's imperious stare forced her into a trancelike state where time ran backward, backward to the time she first met him and all she could remember was the hot sensation of a blush biting her cheeks. It took her back to the time that she fell slowly in love with him, and then all at once.

Hands clasped limply together in front of her, Makoto took one step forward and, as if the words spilled from her mouth, began to speak. "I know it seems abrupt, but I've been meaning to ask you on a date for quite some time."

Makoto noticed that Akira did not avert his gaze. Staring at her like he did that day he walked through the front entrance of Shujin Academy, he waited for her next words.

Again the pounding in her chest returned. She mulled over these words for so long, had imagined herself saying them to him for the longest time. Yet when it was no longer a daydream, but reality, she froze like an amateur actress who'd forgotten her lines on stage. Another swallow, followed by a deep, calming breath.

"You see, Akira, I've wanted to ask you on a date because I…"

"Hey! Akira, what's up!"

A cutting voice interrupted Makoto mid sentence. She recognized that familiar, irreverent timbre anywhere. It could have only come from one person.

"Hello, Ryuji," Akira replied. "I'm doing well."

"Nice, nice to hear," Ryuji stated with a makeshift grin. He walked stolidly past Makoto, sticking himself between her and Akira as if she were invisible, and grabbed onto his shoulder. "Gym's almost over, right dude? We should probably head back to the locker rooms to change, don't wanna be late for our next class."

Makoto's expression sank. It was painful to be ignored, especially when she was so close to expressing her innermost feelings to Akira, and even more so when it was from her closest friends. But it was evident in her mind from Ryuji's arrival that Akira was not interested in her proposal. He just needed a way of letting her down, she thought.

" _Maybe it's for the best,"_ she resigned. _"After all, we're both Phantom Thieves. It would only get in the way of our duties if we had romantic feelings for each other. It was silly of me to think otherwise."_

Her eyes fell upon Akira's countenance as he faced Ryuji, who appeared to be whistling a noiseless tune between his teeth as he waited for the former's reply. What was taking Akira so longer to answer, she wondered. Why wasn't he heading out with Ryuji already?

"Okay," Akira finally responded, relaxing his posture. "I'll join you once I'm done talking to Makoto."

Her brows lifted and her body unfolded like a budding rose. Did she just hear him correctly, she wondered, staring on in disbelief.

Ryuji looked just as shocked as Makoto. "Huh? Whaddya mean, dude?" Leaning forward with a tight, neck strained smile, he asked under his breath, "Don't you think it'd be a good idea to hit the road now before you get asked the question by **you know who**?" His head jerked ever-so-slightly in Makoto's direction with each of his last three words.

"Like I said, I'll join you once I'm done talking to Makoto." It seemed by the lack of concern on Akira's face that he understood the position he was in... or was completely oblivious to it. "Now, if you don't mind Ryuji, you're standing in the way of us."

Ryuji gnashed his teeth. Looking behind him, he recognized Makoto's presence and, feigning his earlier ignorance of her existence, exclaimed, "Oh? Oh hey, you're with Niijima-san!" He rubbed his shoulder and offered a sharp smile. "Hey, Niijima-san! I didn't even see you there. How are uh… how was your ride in to school?"

Makoto stared at him as if he were wearing a long-sleeved sweater on the hottest day of summer. "We took the same subway, Ryuji."

The mention of the truth had Ryuji stammering. "I-I don't remember any of that. Must've been someone else pretendin' to be me… or something."

The quizzical expression on Makoto's face remained, now peppered with a hint of concern. "Are you alright?" she asked. "You seem rather flustered. Are you dehydrated?"

Her questioning reduced him into an excessive fit of laughter. Ryuji leaned back and guffawed, "Hahah! Me? Flustered? Never! Hah! You're so funny, Niijima-san." Then, trying to change the subject, he turned, "Anyway, do you wanna grab some grub tonight Akira? I was thinkin' we could go to Ogikubo and stuff our faces with ramen."

Akira shook his head. "Sorry Ryuji, I have plans with Makoto tonight."

Makoto studied Ryuji, only peripherally aware of Akira's reply. It wasn't until she replayed his words in her head that she swiveled to face him, eyes wide. "Akira, you're…?"

"Wait, f-for real?!" Ryuji stuttered. Staring between Makoto and Akira, he croaked, "I mean, sure! For real! That sounds totally swell."

"I agree," Akira replied.

The three exchanged prolonged glances.

"A-anyway," Ryuji concluded after an uncomfortable silence, "Have fun you two. I'll catch you guys later." Like a dog being reprimanded by its owner, he tucked his tail between his legs and motioned to leave.

"Wait, Ryuji," Makoto called out as he started walking away. "Are you sure you're okay? You're not feeling sick, are you?"

Hands gathered coolly behind his head, Ryuji shrugged, "Nah, I'm all good."

She lifted a brow. "Really? Or are you just saying that?"

"Yeah, really," he groaned. "You're overthinking things, Niijima-san. I'm all good."

Makoto's pursed lips relaxed. "Okay," she said. "Please take care of yourself, Sakamoto. It's important that you remain healthy to keep on top of schoolwork, as well as your Phantom Thief duties. I'll text you later to check up."

"Psh, whatever mom," he dismissed before leaving Makoto and Akira to their devices.

With Ryuji gone, Makoto turned to face Akira. This time, however, the anxiety she felt when talking to him earlier was replaced by her concern with Ryuji's wellbeing. "Is it just me, or is Sakamoto acting rather strange today?" she asked, scratching her cheek. "Come to think of it, he seemed agitated at the station too."

"Station?" Akira asked.

Makoto nodded. "I met Sakamoto earlier today at the Ginza transfer. He appeared fine at first, but then he started behaving very oddly, even more so than usual." She sighed and pinched her temples. "I hope he's okay. I really should have asked him to go to the nurse's office before he left. Maybe I should text him to do it now..."

Akira hummed. "Don't worry, Ryuji's tough. He'll be fine."

"Well, he is quite resilient…"

"It's sweet of you to worry about him."

His compliment brought Makoto back to the plane of reality. She looked away, curling a lock of her hazelnut hair between her index and middle fingers. "Oh, it's nothing," she admitted. "It's part of my job as student council president to ensure the safety and well-being of all students at Shujin Academy."

Makoto's face grew hotter the longer she noticed Akira gazing down at her. Arms pulling into her chest, she returned to watching the floor, only occasionally peering up to meet his eyes.

"Did you mean what you said earlier?" she inquired. "That you wanted to go on a date with me?"

"Yes, I was actually thinking of suggesting it earlier."

Her heart stirred with a thousand feelings, each in itself a complete bewilderment that could not be explained through words. "Really?"

"I wouldn't still be here if I were lying."

Makoto felt weightless, like the gravity on Earth had suddenly vanished. It was surreal. Even in her dreams she could not have fantasized such a bow-tied, fairytale resolution.

"Akira, I've been meaning to ask you out for a while now, to tell you how I feel," she said. "I was always afraid that you wouldn't reciprocate my feelings. Yet you were thinking the same thing as I was all along."

"I'd have gone out with you any time if you'd asked me, Makoto."

If he looked into those bright red eyes, he'd see all the stars in the sky. "Akira..." she said.

He leaned in. "Yes?"

Her actions betrayed her thoughts as she caught herself moments before pouring out her heart. "Oh. Um, I'm sorry, I was just... Nevermind," she said. Focusing on the empty space between them, she asked, "So... What time will you be free?"

"Whenever you are."

"How about 7:30pm?" she said. "I know a small place in Shinjuku that takes reservations. I'll make them and call you to let you know?"

"Unfortunately," Akira said, "My phone is broken."

Her mouth formed a silent 'oh.' "In that case, how about I come to _Leblanc_ at 7:00pm and we go together?"

"Sure. That sounds fine to me."

She smiled. "Okay, perfect. That's perfect for me."

"Good, good."

A long, protracted silence spun itself out. Makoto felt her breath clogging her throat, and she coughed to allay the building awkwardness. "I heard about your boys' night in yesterday from Ryuji," she began. "Did you have a nice welcoming party for Akechi?"

Akira's face wrinkled. "It was... different."

"Oh? How so?"

"We learned a lot about each other. Maybe too much." He bobbed his head. "But it was also nice."

"What was the most interesting thing you found out?"

"Well, besides Yusuke's propensity for nude men..." he said, voice faltering into an inaudible whisper.

"Hm?"

"Oh, nothing," he discarded. "If you actually believe it, Ryuji has a crush on someone."

Makoto arched a brow. "Really?"

"He wouldn't say who it was, only that we were familiar with the person and that she goes to Shujin Academy."

She wrapped her arms around herself and held her chin. "Curious. I always thought he was too involved with his own personal growth and physical health to have a crush on anyone at our school."

"I was just as surprised. But I've thought about who it could be, and I think I've pinpointed it down."

"Really? Who is it, in your mind?"

"Someone who's kind, who's fun to hang around with, and who's beautiful." He forked his fingers through his untidied hair. "But mostly, someone who can hold his attention."

"Are you referring to Takamaki?"

"Perhaps," he acquiesced. "They've known each other the longest of anyone in our group. But I think he sees her like a sister. I don't think he's interested in her romantically"

"Then who could it possibly be?"

"Maybe it's you."

Makoto's stared at Akira in visible shock. "What? Me? No, that couldn't be," she asserted. "He thinks I'm just a bookworm. He's always teasing me and calling me names. And besides, he always addresses me formally as Niijima-san. He doesn't think much of me other than being his teammate."

"He teases you, but I think he also respects you a great deal. You're everything I described in a girl that Ryuji likes." He offered a sustained gaze, followed by a smile which dangled off the corner of his lips.

Her face flashed crimson with embarrassment as she played with the hem of her thigh high athletic shorts. "Thank you, Akira. That's too kind of you to say."

"It's the truth."

Before she could reply, the sudden blare of the school bell reverberated across the high ceilings. Upon hearing them, the other students filed out of the gymnasium like ants. Makoto chided her timing. How desperately she wanted to stay here with Akira, frozen in this moment. But she knew class wouldn't wait for her, and with great regret, she began distancing herself from him, taking delayed, mousy steps in the hopes of artificially lengthening their time together.

"I suppose I have to get to my next class," she hushed, feet shuffling across the floor. Every step away from him felt cold.

"No worries," he said with a slow smile. "We can talk more tonight, and about anything you'd like."

She grinned. "Yes, you're right." Another bashful glance at her toes, followed by a hand gliding against the side of her dark brown tresses. "Okay then, I'll see you tonight, Akira."

"You too, Makoto."

"I'm really looking forward to our date," she chimed.

"As am I. Take care."

"Okay, you as well."

And with that, Makoto exited from sight.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 1:00pm  
Shujin Locker Room**_

The locker room was filled with as much ruckus as one would expect from a congregation of teenaged boys. Like the New York Stock Exchange, they shouted and jeered over one another in an amalgamation of methodical chaos. Splayed out clothes, shoes, and equipment littered the benches and floors, like spatterings of ketchup on a toddler's bib.

Akira angled himself through the gaps of the crowd, every so often being bumped here and there by a negligent classmate. Keeping his head low and his body tucked into itself like a stuffed jack-in-the-box, he avoided any kind of movement or speech that could be construed as communication. In this jungle, his only goal was to be in and out as fast as possible.

When he finally reached his locker through the throng of gangly bodies, he let loose a deep exhale and expanded his limbs to occupy what limited free space he had available. He leaned into his combination lock and began turning the dial in methodically measured circles. 22-45-6…

The abrupt, redounding clash of an open hand smacking against the locker just to his left jolted his attention and botched his attempt. Akira's eyes enlarged as he was suddenly put face-to-face with his vociferous blonde haired friend.

"Dude, what the eff was that?" Ryuji cried. His teeth were bared and clamped, and a pettish frustration leaked through his expression into his voice. "I was tryin' to bail you out, but you just dove head first right in! What were you thinking?"

Akira leaned into his locker. "I appreciate the help earlier with Makoto, but I had to accept."

"Whaddya mean?" he asked. "You coulda just come to dinner with me instead of whatever Makoto wants you doin'. You just signed a death warrant for yourself."

"I guessed by your initial reaction to Makoto that you'd told her about the message."

Ryuji felt his body stiffen. His expression dampened, his shoulders slouched, and the accusatory tone of his voice vanished. "Y-yeah," he gulped, averting eye contact out of guilt. "Sorry about that. Again. That was my bad."

"That's why I'm going to dinner with Makoto tonight," Akira explained. "To nip this in the bud as soon as possible."

"Well, why didn't you just tell her about the message now?"

"I was going to right before she asked me out to a date," he casually noted. "I figured I would tell her there instead."

Ryuji shook his head in stunned disbelief. "Woah woah woah, what? A date?! You're going on a date with Niijima-san?!"

"Yes."

"Are you out of your mind?!"

"No?"

Ryuji slapped his hand onto his forehead and groaned. "Shit, this is way worse than I thought. I was thinkin' you two only agreed to a hang out session, and that she would ask you on a date _there_! Guess she went right for it, jugular and all." Sighing into his feet, he continued, "But man, this is bad. You've made things a whole lot harder for you now. I woulda made more of a scene if I knew she asked you on a date! I only thought you were going out for something simple like boba tea…"

"Isn't that what a date is?" asked Akira, confused by his friend's visceral reaction.

"Y'know, for someone who does so well in school, you got a whole lotta nothin' up in there when it comes to girls," commented Ryuji, knocking his knuckles against Akira's forehead. "A date's when a guy and a girl are interested in each other and do something together to get to know each other better. It's not a get together between friends, it's a get together between two people who want to be **boyfriend and girlfriend**. And you just agreed to go on a date with Niijima-san!"

Akira blinked heavily. For the first time in a long time, he felt an overwhelming pressure collapse onto his shoulders. The consequences of his actions had finally dawned upon him. He leaned deeper into his locker for support. He held onto his arms, running his fingers across the sensitive gooseflesh which teemed his skin. "I've never heard the word used like that..."

"You really are a country bumpkin," Ryuji reprimanded. "Everyone uses the word 'date' in a romantic context, at least everyone who's living in the twenty-first century. You really need to catch up on your lingo, dude."

Akira's brows furrowed. He bit his bottom lip so hard it nearly started bleeding. "What should I do then, Ryuji?" he asked. It was the first time he had ever asked Ryuji for advice.

"Huh?!" Ryuji lurched, taken off guard by his question. "W-what? Why're you asking me! Aren't you usually the one who always has the plan?!"

"I've never been on a date before."

"And you think **I** have?!" he exclaimed. "This is like totally uncharted territory for me! And you're goin' out with Niijima-san of all people, the student council president! You know, the same one who's smart, and gorgeous, and basically a pro at aikido? Even Captain Kidd couldn't sail through these waters unscathed!"

Akira's visage grew severe. "I've made a huge mistake."

"Yeah, talk about it," Ryuji sighed. Rolling the ball of his foot into the ground as if he were stamping out a cigarette, he proceeded, "Look, I'll call the others so we can hold an emergency meeting right after school. We really need to shape your ass up if you're gonna make it through tonight in one piece. What time's your date with Niijima-san?"

"7:30pm, but we meet at _Leblanc_ at 7:00pm."

"Then I'll be at _Leblanc_ with the guys around 4:00pm." Ryuji offered a charming, half-cocked smile and patted his friend on the back. "Sounds good?"

Akira exhaled. "Sounds good. Thank you, Ryuji. I appreciate your help."

"Don't thank me just yet," he smirked. "You're still up shit creek without a paddle. Anyway, I'll catch you later, dude. 4:00pm at _Leblanc_ , I won't be late!" Throwing up two fingers as a sign of farewell, he sauntered out of the locker room with his backpack slung lazily over his shoulder.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 1:06pm  
Shujin Academy**_

A date with the student council president.

The more Akira repeated those words in his head, the more daunting everything seemed. He dragged his feet along the polished floors of the congested Shujin hallways, head practically bowed in capitulation. Like a spectre of his former self, the pinkness of his cheeks had faded ghastly white, his face appearing sunken in and gaunt.

" _How am I going to get myself out of this?"_ he contemplated. _"What kind of stunt am I going to have to pull this time?"  
_

"Phew! Man, I hate gym class!" squeaked a lighthearted voice from Akira's backpack. Poking his head partially out of his confines, Morgana shook off his luxurious, matted black hair. "It gets so stuffy when you leave me in there. Plus, that locker room reeks like old socks! Talk about a gross encounter of the third kind."

Despite remaining in Akira's pack for the majority of the school day, Morgana retained his usual peppy attitude. Whether it was a byproduct of his curious, cat like nature or a result of his patience was anyone's guess. His tail wiggled back and forth as he craned his neck to the side, examining the unusually downtrodden expression Akira carried. "So, how'd asking Makoto the question go? Managed to straighten everything out?" he purred.

His words only succeeded in dropping Akira's mood even lower. "I have a date with her tonight."

"What?!" Morgana shouted. His piercing meow nearly attracted the attention of the other students. Taking a moment to regain his calm, he criticized in a whisper, "Isn't that the **opposite** of what you're supposed to be doing, Joker? What if she was the one who received the message? How're you going to break it to her now!"

"The guys will be coming over later to help me figure this out," he replied, hands buried in his front pockets.

Morgana scoffed and flicked his tail. "The guys will help you figure this out? Like you need any more of Ryuji's help. You should listen to me instead! I'm very knowledged with problems like these, you know, the ones involving ladies. I'm a bit of a Casanova myself, you know. Nyahaha!"

"Oh really? Have you ever been on a date?"

The feline's eyes shot open. "A-a date?! W-well no, I haven't.." he stuttered. Brushing off his initial surprise, he confidently continued, "... But I've read a lot of books about dating! You could consider me a scholar on the subject."

"A scholar, huh?"

"Yup!" he meowed proudly. "A regular Leonardo da Vinci!"

Akira's lips tugged into a smile. "I think I'll take my chances with Ryuji," he said, casting a sidelong glance at Morgana.

"Hey, that's hurtful!" Morgana complained. "You really think you're better off with that jar head over me?"

Akira chuckled, "I just think he has more experience than you, especially with girls."

"What! You take that back! I'll have you know I'm a well-regarded romantic!"

"Oh? And who can vouch for your escapades, Casanova?"

"Um, w-well, you see..."

Even if Akira were under dire circumstances, he reckoned that so long as he had his friends, everything would be alright. After all, with companions like Morgana, Ryuji, Yusuke, and Akechi, what could possibly go wrong? Playfully, their voices mingled with the ubiquitous droning of Shujin Academy's hallways, and they chattered the remainder of the way to class.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 1:07pm  
Shujin Academy**_

A date with Akira Kurusu.

Makoto walked to her desk with a contemplative look strewn across her visage. The realization of had happened in the gymnasium hadn't fully set in. It was only when she reached her seat that she was struck by the full force of Akira's words.

" _I'd have gone out with you any time if you'd asked me, Makoto."_

Like the thundering crash of a wave wrested to the shore, everything hit her at once. _"I can't believe that Akira agreed to go on a date with me,"_ she thought with an ear-to-ear grin. She hid her flowering complexion in her palms and laughed to herself, her cheeks almost in pain. When she removed her hands from her face, the world seemed so beautiful and bright, as if she were looking through the lens of a saturated filter. It felt so warm, and nice, and fuzzy, like she was living in a dream. Nothing could possibly spoil today for her.

"You're looking in high spirits today, Miss Prez."

Makoto was suddenly plucked from her realm of fantasy as a familiar voice rung in her ears. Turning to face the black-haired girl to her right, she readjusted her posture to one befitting of a student council president.

"Hehe, look at you, all caught up in a daydream," the girl continued with a sly, toothy smile. "What's got **you** jumping for the sky? Like, more letters of acceptance?"

Once Makoto discerned who was speaking, she returned the girl's wide smile with one of her own. "Hello Eiko-san," she greeted calmly, attempting to mute her happiness. "No, it's not that. I'm just in a good mood today."

She snickered and threw her legs over the side of her chair to face Makoto. "I can see that," she said, gesturing a curt nod. "But, like, what's got you smiling like a Cheshire Cat?"

There were two universal truths to Eiko Takao: that she always applied one too many layers of mascara, and that she was a legendary gossiper. All students of Shujin Academy knew if they ever needed the latest scoop, they could come to Ms. Takao for the details. Thus, despite being one of her closest friends outside of the Phantom Thieves, Makoto knew not to say more than what was necessary around her, especially when it regarded her personal life. It wouldn't be great to have her love life strewn about for all to see like a daytime soap opera, after all.

"Nothing in particular," Makoto replied, deliberate care taken in her choice of words.

Eiko's half-lidded eyes tightened. "Really, nothing in particular?" she repeated, her right brow cocking. "Sounds awfully fishy." With a sudden leap forwards, she put her face directly in front of Makoto's and demanded, "Okay, spill the beans! What's like going on, Niiji-san?"

Startled, Makoto felt a bead of invisible sweat roll down her forehead, alternately hot and cold at once. "What do you-...?"

"Recently won the lottery? Found out you got a full ride to the university of your choice? Got a new dog?" Eiko pelted her with question after unrelenting question. But it wasn't until her last one that her bubblegum pink lips spread into a broad, wicked smile. "Or maybe you got a new boy toy?"

With that last comment, Makoto's cheeks peach-bloomed.

"Oh em gee, you totally _did_ get one, didn't you?" Eiko shrieked, the secret practically bursting through her giddy squeals of joy. Hopping in her seat like a child who'd been offered candy, she pestered ad nauseum, "Who is it! Who is it! Who is it! Come on, Niiji-san! Like, you have to tell me! Who is it!"

Makoto sank in her seat, her head retreating into her shoulders. "Eiko, not so loudly," she hushed. "You're attracting everyone's attention..."

"Who is it! Come on, you can tell me!" Eiko continued, deaf to Makoto's pleading. "Please, I promise I like won't tell anyone! Who is it!"

A moment of consideration passed. Telling Eiko a secret was a bad idea under any circumstance, but considering she was already aware of it and would not stop until she'd discovered it, Makoto hedged her bet on her friend's precarious loyalty. "Do you swear?"

"I swear!"

"Promise?"

Eiko gestured the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. "Cross my heart and hope to, like, die!"

Makoto sighed. It would have to do. "Okay," she said, her lips trembling as she formed the words. "I'm going on a date with Akira tonight."

"Woah! What? Seriously, him?!" Eiko said.

All eyes in the room singled out the pair.

Like a robber caught in a spotlight, Makoto jumped in her skin. "Shh! I told you, not so loud, Eiko!" she buzzed, dipping her head low and looking away to remain inconspicuous.

Eiko clasped her hands over her mouth and remained silent as the grave until the pointed stares had gone back to their usual conversations. "Sorry!" she finally apologized when the coast was clear, rubbing the side of her neck. "But wow, I can't believe the Student Council Prez is going on a date with the transfer student. Like, talk about a real case of Lady and the Tramp!"

"He's not a tramp, Eiko," Makoto said. "He's incredibly considerate and well-mannered."

"And he's also got a criminal record," Eiko said gleefully. "Really fishing for those dark mysterious types, huh Niiji-san? Never woulda guessed our prez was such a magnet for bad boys, especially ones who break the law." As Eiko giggled, she careened her neck so that the side of her head rested in her palm. Starin into Makoto's gaze with her round, taletelling eyes, she sang, "You should have told me you were looking for a guy with a bad rep. Like, I could have set you up a long time ago!"

"Those were just nasty rumors spread by Kamoshida," Makoto said. "And besides, I'm not into a specific type of guy. I'm only interested in Akira."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she mumbled into her shoulder. Suddenly leaping up in her seat, she chirped, "So! Like, tell me the deets about this date! Where are you going? What are you wearing?"

"I was planning on going with Akira to _Marais_ in Shinjuku. And I'm not sure what I'll wear yet."

Eiko stuck her tongue out in mock disgust. "Blugh, he's taking you out to dinner? And it's a French place, too? That's such a cop out."

A hint of worry sprinkled Makoto's countenance. "What do you mean by that?"

Propping her elbows on her upper thighs as she leaned forward, Eiko lifted up her index finger and started, "Okay, so like, all first dates are _mad awkward_ , and dinner always makes it worse. You basically have to sit in front of this guy and talk to him for an hour straight and like hope the conversation doesn't fall flat, otherwise it gets even more awkward. Plus, you can't be sure if he likes the food and atmosphere or if he's just like pretending in order to cater to you." She shook her head with a tsk tsk tsk. "Can't believe he suggested such a, like, weird thing for a first date."

"But I was the one who suggested it, Eiko," Makoto said.

"Wait, you're like telling me **you** asked **him** out on a date?!" Eiko gasped.

"Is that so bad?"

"Bad? It's a disaster!"

Makoto gulped. "How so?"

"Because it's like always the guy who's asking out the girl in the movies, not the other way around!"

"But this isn't the movies, this is real life."

"And what do you think movies are based on? Real life, duh!"

"Oh... I see..."

Eiko sighed for her simpleminded friend. "You really are a flunkie when it comes to romance, aren't you? When it comes to love, there's a **super specific** formula you have to follow, that's the only way you'll ever really get a guy! You can't be genuine and, like, sentimental with guys and expect them to jump into your arms! You gotta be like standout, assertive, and in-your-face!" Grinning sultrily, she closed, "But most importantly, you need to be like wearing something totally _scandalous_."

"... Scandalous?"

Her head nodded so furiously her mop of jet black hair nearly snapped out of its pink scrunchie. "Yeah! Like a V dress that dives **way** too deep and shows off like everything, or a really flashy black chemise, or a mini-skirt that's really tight on your **you know where.** Oh! Or one of those caged dresses that shows off your bod! Guys go like absolutely **gaga** for those!"

Makoto's brows drew tighter and tighter with each new term Eiko spouted off. "I'm afraid I don't have any clothes that fit that description," she said. "Will a black dress do?"

She groaned at Makoto's hopelessness. "What time's your date?"

"7:30pm," she answered. "But I'm meeting him at his place at 7:00pm."

"Perfect! We can go shopping together after school and pick you up something nice!"

Makoto blinked. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Dolling yourself up to look gorgeous?" Eiko jeered with an arrogant sneer. "I mean, in what universe is that like a bad idea?"

Makoto weighed Eiko's words. She did want to make an impression on Akira. But at the same time, she wanted to show him a genuine time, have them go out to a nice dinner together where they could talk about their feelings. She didn't know how she felt about all this spectacle. "I don't want to make dinner awkward between us," she finally conceded.

"You're not gonna make anything awkward, Niiji-san!" Eiko replied. "You just gotta talk a little, then dazzle him with that amazing body of yours! Besides, aren't you two like buddies? You should totally be able to have a normal conversation with him even in a sexy dress, yeah?"

She hummed, "But I've never talked to him on a date, and he's hardly ever seen me in anything besides my school attire."

"Oh yeah?" Eiko replied sassily, lips flaring wide and her right eyebrow cambering. "How about that trip to Hawaii? Weren't you basically flashing yourself off in a bikini to him?"

Makoto's face grew hot with embarrassment. "T-that's not the same thing!"

"Sounds about the same to me." With a slight wave of her hand, Eiko finished, "Anyway, don't you worry. I like figured you might have trouble talking to a guy on your first date, everyone has that problem. That's why I have a plan!"

"What kind of plan?" she asked.

"You'll see," Eiko trilled, her voice sing-songy and giddy with excitement.

Before Makoto could say any more, the bell signaling the beginning of class rang. Immediately Eiko shot her a final, impish wink and straightened herself in her seat.

Makoto gulped. "I really hope you know what you're doing," she whispered as she faced forward.

As her peers quieted down and the professor began his lecture, her mind raced with all the possibilities before her. What should she do, she wondered? Go on the date the way she intended to, or take Eiko's advice and try to woo Akira through unconventional means? What was the right choice here? And what was the wrong one? Perhaps they were both right in their own way? Or could it be that they were both wrong?

She let loose one last deep, resounding sigh.

" _And I really hope I know what I'm doing, too."_

* * *

 _ **October 30, 1:24pm  
Shujin Academy**_

The minutes bled into one another, and the monotonous, mechanical tick of the second hand of the clock wormed its way into the forefront of Akira's mind.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

He cast a cursory glance of the room. Morgana was sleeping soundly in his desk. The teacher was drawing a mathematical algorithm on the chalkboard. Ryuji was busy playing a game on his phone. And the rest of the students stared hunchbacked toward the front of the classroom, eyes open, but not learning anything of value.

Then, a sudden snapping of static as the intercom crackled to life.

"Akira Kurusu, please come to the main office immediately, Akira Kurusu to the main office immediately."

His muscles tensed. The sounds of shifting seats and rustling clothes filled the room as all eyes turned to him, and the only question he could bring himself to ask was, _"What?"_

"What, are you deaf? To the main office, Kurusu," the professor finally called to break Akira's trance. He stuffed his face back into his lecture notes once he'd finished giving orders. "Now, if we look at example number three..."

Akira had only ever been called down to the main office once. That was at his old school, and the reason was expulsion. Generally, when something like this happened, it was because disciplinary action had to be administered as a result of some sort of misdemeanor. And seeing that he had come to Shujin Academy as a convicted criminal, he only had one strike before he was out.

Was he going to be expelled, he thought. Memories of having to leave his previous life drowned him in melancholy.

And just like the last time, murmurings began bubbling around him.

"Good riddance."

"Once a criminal, always a criminal."

"Do you think he stabbed somebody?"

"It was about time he was out of here."

It felt like a dozen frigid stares bored holes into his back as he pulled out of his chair and stood upright. Grasping his knapsack, which Morgana had slipped into while no one was watching, Akira padded to the exit. His steps felt oddly heavy, and his movements resembled slogging more than walking. What possible reason could he have been called down to the main office, he wondered. A sickness churned in his stomach. Whatever it was, he surmised, it couldn't have been good.

"Yo Akira, what gives?" Ryuji whispered up to him as he passed. "Why're you gettin' called down? What happened?"

Akira stopped beside Ryuji and offered a shellshocked shrug. "I don't know. I didn't do anything."

"What? Then why did they say your name over the intercom? That doesn't make any sense."

"Come on, Kurusu, get your body down to the main office," the teacher called before Akira could reply. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tapped his foot against the ground and barked, "Every second you stand that, you're wasting my and everyone else's time. So move it!"

Obediently Akira nodded. He exited the room, leaving behind a cold room of his peers and an inexplicably distressed Ryuji.

As he walked down the lonely corridor, his footsteps making flat echoes, Morgana popped his head out of his knapsack to speak. "This is very odd," he began. "We haven't done anything that would attract attention to us. So then why are you being called down to the main office?"

Akira shook his head, still aghast. "I'm not sure."

Seeing the dismayed state of his friend, Morgana yelled, "Hey, snap out of it! You're not going to be expelled, alright? You said it yourself, you haven't done anything wrong. And there's no way they know about the Metaverse. Just keep your cool, Joker. Everything will be okay."

With Morgana's words of encouragement, Akira composed himself. His back straightened, and his gaze, which was once stuck on his feet, now aimed straight forward. It wouldn't be like last time, he thought. This time things were different. He had real friends who wouldn't abandon him at the first sign of trouble. He couldn't possibly "Yes, you're right," he said. "Thank you."

The confident stride in his step returned as he headed for the main office.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 1:24pm  
Shujin Academy**_

It was only moments after the voice calling Akira to the main office played over the intercoms that Makoto's homeroom teacher decided to take a quick, two minute break. As soon as the door closed behind him, the class erupted with commotion.

"He totally got expelled."

"Ugh, what a pain. This is gonna make our school look even worse than it does already."

"You can't trust a guy like that, he was bad news from the start."

Her hand clamped into a fist as she resisted the urge to sock the closest person to her.

"Looks like this might put a bit of a damper on your date, huh?" Eiko quipped.

"Now's not the time, Eiko," Makoto glowered. Suddenly, she felt a buzz in her pocket. And then another. And another. Reaching for her phone, she flipped open her Phantom Thieves chat. Keeping it under her desk, she began reading it away from prying eyes.

 **Ann:** hey Ryuji  
 **Ann:** what's going on  
 **Ann:** why is Akira getting called down?  
 **Ryuji:** ur guess is as good as mine  
 **Ann:** omg you're so useless  
 **Ryuji:** that makes u just as useless too u know!  
 **Ann:** (；一_一)  
 **Yusuke:** What exactly is happening?  
 **Haru:** Akira is being called down to the main office. I just heard it over the intercom.  
 **Ann:** Yusuke yeah he just got called down  
 **Ann:** but no one knows why  
 **Ann:** rumors are already spreading in our class that he's getting expelled  
 **Ryuji:** that doesnt make any sense  
 **Ryuji:** he didnt do anything wrong  
 **Yusuke:** Interesting. Perhaps there was an incident at home and he had to be called away? Futaba, have you heard Sakura discuss anything regarding Akira-san?  
 **Futaba:** LMAO Akira got sent to the principal's office? xD  
 **Futaba:** What a noob  
 **Futaba:** But nah I haven't heard anything from Sojiro, he's been working all day  
 **Yusuke:** I suppose we will just have to wait and see then.  
 **Ryuji:** u guys worry too much hes fine  
 **Ann:** yeah  
 **Ann:** you're probably right  
 **Yusuke:** In any case, it would be best for us to get in contact with him as soon as possible.  
 **Ryuji:** but his phones totally broken  
 **Haru:** Ah, no wonder he didn't reply to my earlier texts  
 **Yusuke:** That is true. Let us just wait then, and see what happens.  
 **Ann:** that's probably the best option rn

Before Makoto could read any more, the professor returned. Stuffing her phone in her front pocket, she sat forward in her seat and feigned attentiveness, her real thoughts turning to Akira.

" _Akira,"_ she inwardly prayed. _"Please be okay."_

* * *

 _ **October 30, 1:28pm  
Shujin Main Office**_

"Hey. You're the second year, Akira Kurusu? Right?"

The desk attendant was nothing like he imagined. She was not aged and homely, with greying whiskers and conservative, skin concealing clothes. Instead, she looked only four or five years his senior. Her vibrant, bright blue faux hawk resembled the crests of those ridiculous dancing birds on the Discovery Channel. A stud on the side of her nostril and a pair of long, hoop earrings adorned her countenance. Plump lips slickened black as tar by makeup and wildly administered mascara gave her the appearance of a punk rocker. That and the fact that her garb comprised of a short plaid skirt, long, knee high socks, and a sleeveless black turtleneck, which fully revealed the tribal tattoos decorating her lithe arms.

And she was the first face one would see when entering Shujin Academy.

"Man, kids these days are growing up so fast," she complained, leaning back into her chair. She kicked her feet up on the front desk and closed her eyes. "Must be all the growth hormones in the food."

Akira studied the bizzare woman for a brief moment before replying, "I was called to the main office."

"Cool, cool," she rebutted. "There's a lady on hold for you, apparently it's an emergency and she needs to talk to you immediately."

His gaze narrowed. "An emergency?" He thought the reason he was called down to the main office would be because of his past crimes, or at least because of his connection to the Phantom Thieves. This turn of events only succeeded in confusing him further.

"What, you have bad ears?" she taunted. "Yes, I said it was an emergency. Now go on, scram. You're getting in the way of my beautiful view."

And speaking to this enigmatic desk attendant certainly wasn't helping either. Staring at her, then at the direction she was facing, he commented, "Isn't that just a view of the front gate?"

"Yeah. Reminds me that freedom's only a few steps away." She smiled at him, but it was perfunctory.

Akira was left scratching his head at this encounter. With a short nod, he said, "I'll take the call now."

"It's just down the hall. Have a wonderful day, champ."

* * *

 _ **October 30, 1:30pm  
Shujin Main Office**_

There was no delay in his movements. At once, Akira picked up the phone and put it to his ear. On the other end, he heard music. It sounded like jazz, but it wasn't live. Was it the radio? Besides the sound of a trumpet, there weren't any voices. Clearing his throat, he said into the speaker, "Hello?" and waited.

A long, seven second pause. And then a response. "You're hard to get a hold of, Akira Kurusu," said a woman on the other end. "Did you know that you made me wait nearly fifteen minutes? That's hardly any way to treat a lady."

"Who is this?" he asked brusquely. "Why did you ask for me?"

Another pause, this one shorter. "Because it was an emergency of course."

"Who is this?"

The sound of faint laughter. "My, my, don't tell me you don't recognize my voice over the phone. I thought I'd trained you better than this, **Morumotto-kun**."

His eyes widened.

"Wait, you're..."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello friends, hope you're enjoying the story. This section is going to be slightly longer than usual so that I can explain away potential confusion in the plot. But once again, I'd like to take a moment to mention that I really appreciate all the views, reviews, favorites, and follows you've given me. Your support is immensely appreciated!

The plot point I wanted to address in the chapter was Akira's misunderstanding of what a date was. While Akira is somewhat anti-social, it would be difficult for him, in English, to confuse the meaning of the word "date" since it so commonly used in regards to relationships in our culture.

However, in Japanese, the word for "date" is actually the same as the word for "socialize", which is _tsukiau_. _Tsukiau_ actually used to mean "to accompany (with no romantic connotations)", but as time passed, the formality of the word has relaxed and it is now used to mean "date" under certain circumstances. Akira, being from the countryside, used this _tsukiau_ as it was originally intended, while Makoto, being from the city, used it in its relaxed definition. When he says he was thinking about suggesting a date earlier, what he really means is he thought about accompanying Makoto somewhere (as a friend!) to discuss the situation.

Furthermore, context is important for understanding what meaning of _tsukiau_ is being used in a sentence, and since Akira is romantically oblivious, he does not understand that Makoto means _tsukiau_ in a relationship way while he means _tsukiau_ in an accompanying way. Just a fun tidbit of knowledge I thought I'd add in case people thought Akira was totally living under a rock.


	4. day two - death i

.

.

.

 **death i**

* * *

 _ **October 30, 1:32pm  
Shujin Academy**_

It was the hottest October in recent memory. The leaves hanging from the oaks by the school were brittled brown, and fields of yellowed grass curled away from the oppressive light. Even the pond by Ichigaya began to evaporate, a faint line in the dirt indicating where the water had once risen.

Yet despite even the horizon rippling from the heat, she remained in her car. Parked alone on the side of the street, a song played from her speakers. The sinuous tones of a lone saxophone trickled like water out her open windows. A breeze blew past her ears, and she drew in the cool, crisp taste of fall.

The volume of the saxophone rose as the song reached its dramatic climax. The trumpets blared, and the double bass, deep and measured, reverberated. The drums joined in, then the clarinet, then the lead singer. Like two bright dewdrops meeting in the center of a flower, they blended together in beautiful, impromptu harmony.

This was real, music, she thought. This was jazz.

If she had to use one word to describe jazz, it would be moving. The way it grasped her soul, captivated her in lyrical rapture – it held her like the sky held the moon at night. It could be soft as the beating of a hummingbird's wings or loud as a lion's roar, slow as a lily flowing downriver or fast as the pelting of streaming rain on a rooftop. What artists like Tiger Okoshi and Masahiko Satoh made her feel in their chord progressions and swing rhythms could not be replicated by the harsh scratching of an electric guitar or the drop of a dubstep remix.

She leaned back and blew a nostalgic whistle. _"_ _Music these days just isn't the same."_

The song decrescendoed to a steady close. Reality zeroed back in, and the world became a shade greyer. She was so absorbed that she'd almost forgotten the reason she was waiting outside Shujin Academy in the sweltering heat. But hearing the static in her ear triggered her memory. She was on the phone with Akira Kurusu because she needed him for a special task. Backtracking to her purpose, she spoke into her phone.

"Now that you've put the pieces together, my precious Morumotto-kun," she soothed, her sultry voice laced with venomous intent. "Be a good little test subject and come outside. We're going to be _very_ busy today, and I don't want to waste any more time."

"Why did you call the school?"

"I tried your cell phone several times, but it went straight to voicemail. Did something happen to your mobile?"

"Ah..." he replied, his voice lingering. "That makes sense. But I'm in the middle of school right now. I can't just leave."

Extending her hand to examine her painted black nails, she said, "I've already taken care of it."

Her words were met with a pause. It seemed like he was afraid of asking the question she knew he wanted to ask. "Taken care of what?" he finally remarked.

"School," she stated. "You've been given permission to leave early. Congratulations."

Though she could not see, she imagined his face wringing with surprise. "What does that mean?"

A self-absorbed grin graced her features. "It seems that your poor, sweet auntie had a terrible accident and fell down a flight of stairs. They need you at the hospital right away. Fortunately, a friend of yours has so generously offered to take you there."

She knew he didn't have an aunt. And he knew she knew. "Just what are you planning?" he asked.

"All you need to know is that it's for a very important reason. You could even call it an emergency." She placed both her hands on the wheel and released a back curling yawn. "Anyway, I'll be waiting right outside the main entrance. See you in a bit, my dear Morumotto-kun."

And with that she hung up, leaving Akira with the cold, monotonous drone of the dial tone.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 1:34pm  
Shujin Academy**_

Akira clacked the handset phone onto its switch arms. He was stunned. No, shellshocked. A slew of questions circled his mind, like how did she convince the school with such a blatant lie, or why did she need him now of all times.

There was no use mulling over it here though, he concluded. The only way he'd get answers was directly from the horse's mouth. His hand gliding against the wall as he teetered to the exit of the main office, he spied the blue-haired desk attendant on the way out and glanced at her.

She, on the other hand, did not even lift her head to acknowledge him. With a disinterested, "Later," she returned to rubbernecking the front entrance with a cynical grimace.

He stared at the space in front of his feet and continued moving as if he were on autopilot. He walked through the main office door, down a flight of stairs, through the hallway, down a short set of steps, and before long, he was nearing the exit of the academy.

"Hey, wait," called Morgana, squeezing his head out of Akira's knapsack. Given that he listened in to his conversation from the confinement of the bag, he was just as, if not more, confused as Akira. "Is everything alright? I thought I heard you talking about some kind of an emergency. What's going on?"

"It's fine," Akira replied.

"Who was it that called you?"

"A friend."

"Hmm. That's weird. They called you down to the office just so you could talk to a friend?"

"Yeah."

"What did your friend want with you?"

"Nothing really."

Morgana mewled at his unresponsiveness. Noticing the direction he was heading, he pawed at the back of his head, "Hey Joker, you do know homeroom is that way, right? Where are you going?"

Akira didn't answer. He kept trudging along like a soldier to war, his thousand yard stare directed at the floor.

"Hey! Are you listening to me, Akira? Where are we going?"

"I have to go somewhere with a friend."

"Where?"

"I don't know." Upon arriving at the school's exit, he pushed past the heavy gates. Immediately he was buffeted by the humidity of the outdoors. Like diving into a sauna, he felt as if a suit of moisture had fastened itself directly to his skin.

"Well, if that's the case..." began Morgana, leaping out of Akira's bag. He landed gracefully on all fours and shook himself off from head to tail. "I'll be parting ways with you here. It's really hot out, and I don't want to be stuffed in your backpack all day. I'll meet you back at _Leblanc_?"

Akira nodded.

"Alright then. Take care of yourself, okay? Don't start any trouble! And remember, hydrate often!" With a swish of his tail Morgana stole away into the mid-fall afternoon.

Akira's gaze followed Morgana until he vanished from view. And then he was left alone to bake beneath the sun. He shielded his eyes from the light with a canopying hand over his brow and surveyed his surroundings. His friend was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't by the entrance, nor was she on the sidewalk. He didn't even see her over on the next block.

If this was someone's idea of a prank, it was working spectacularly.

Just as Akira was about to head back inside, he spotted a parked red car on the other side of the street, partially covered by the shade of a leafless birch. Its sheen was bright and lustrous and if he didn't know any better he'd think it was a new model.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he began to approach it. He heard the gentle thrumming of its engine as he drew closer, the buzz of a static suffused radio. And when he peered across the dashboard, he spied the silhouette of a woman with short black hair in the driver's seat.

He knew now that this car could only belong to one person.

The dulcet whispers of a jazz piano tickled him to the core. The woman in the car drummed her fingers on the steering wheel in a mimicked motion of playing keys. As she turned her head to regard him, his breath caught in his throat. The sides of her lips dragged into a shrewd smirk, and a tingling despair ran up his spine.

"Ah, there you are," she hushed. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it."

Rugged black leather draped her pointed shoulders. A peacock teal dress sewn from dupioni silk and patterned with white spider webs cloaked her sylphlike frame. The neckline of the thigh high dress dipped to the precipice of her cleavage, sculpting her lower chest and flaunting her alabaster decolletage. Encircling her lithe neck was a studded black choker, and set upon her upper chest was a cross necklace. She had a wavy bob cut which hid her eyebrows and distressed jeans with holes in the knees. Her mascara was natural and grey, yet had a hint of punk rock styling. Fashionable, to say the least.

But even garbed and made up like this, her most prominent features were her drawn lips, beset by tastefully applied lipstick. Those lips had the power to captivate and terrorize. They were beautifully curved, like the Arc De Triomphe, yet they brought about a great unease whenever they bent into a smile.

And yet he still couldn't take his eyes off those bowed lips. Like a sailor drawn to the song of a siren, an irresistible compulsion within him compelled him to her. He took one step closer, then two, then three.

"I hope your day has gone well, Morumotto-kun."

To some, she was called The Plague. To others, the Doctress of Death. He'd even heard a man once spitefully refer to her as the Butcher of Yongen-Jaya.

But to Akira Kurusu, she had one name and one alone.

"You too, Tae."

* * *

 _ **October 30, 1:50pm  
Shujin Academy**_

"And remember, study chapters seven through twelve in particular. The topics covered in these sections will cover the majority of your midterm exam, so unless you want to stay behind for a fourth year, read carefully."

Just as Makoto's professor finished speaking, the bell brought about the unceremonious end of class. She remained in her seat as her peers scuttled for the exit. Then, when no one was around to peep, she checked her phone. Throughout the entire lecture all she could think about was whether new messages had been sent to the Phantom Thief group chat. But when she brought it up on her messenger app, she saw it had stayed exactly as she left it. A tiny seed of doubt planted itself in the recesses of her mind. Would Akira be alright, she wondered.

 _"No, of course he'll be okay,"_ she reassured herself. If anyone could get himself out of a tough spot, it was Akira.

She just wished she could have some sort of confirmation of his well-being.

"So Niiji," she heard Eiko titter, the girl's face full of excitement. She sat with her chin propped up in her palms, elbows rooted on the table. "I'll meet you at the school entrance after classes today?"

Makoto extended her a prolonged stare. "Sorry?"

"To go shopping! Remember, we talked about it before class? Gosh, you're like, so air-headed sometimes."

"Oh, right." Her brows tightened. "Look, Eiko, I really appreciate what you're doing for me, but-"

"But what!" Eiko squealed. "You don't like want to impress Akira and make him fall _madly_ in love with you?"

"That's not what I'm-"

"Then it's settled! I know a great place in the Shibuya Underground that sells like _super_ risque clothes at a bargain price! You're gonna love it, I guarantee it!"

"Eiko, I-"

"No need to thank me! That's what friends are for, right?" She clasped her hands together. "Ooo, my little Niiji-san is all grown up now, going on a dinner date with roguish guys! I'm like so excited to give you a total makeover!"

The disquiet over her complexion and within her breast compounded. "But I don't need a makeover, Eiko. I just-"

"Alright, see you soon! When I'm done with you, he like won't even recognize you! Heck, you probably won't even recognize yourself!"

With a wiggle of her fingers Eiko barreled out of the classroom, the plates of her skirt swishing behind her.

Once Eiko had departed, Makoto freed her held breath, her typically lofty poise collapsing. "I just want to be myself," she whispered to the emptiness of the room. How heavy her shoulders began to feel. With a weary heart, she stood up and left without another word.

Makoto's chin never lifted as she straggled down the hallway. Why had she allowed Eiko to talk her into this, she thought. She could have protested more than she did, but she chose to remain silent. Was it because, deep down, she wanted to impress Akira? Would he even be impressed? He didn't seem to care about such petty things as revealing clothes and dolled up complexions. It was obviously nothing more than a lurid attempt to elicit a reaction from him. It felt fake, disingenuous.

But perhaps it was for the best. Without anyone's help, she might have been even worse off. She had been on exactly zero dates and had never talked to a boy before Akira about anything that wasn't related to school or grades. A hopeless romantic, Makoto pictured the perfect date with her significant other as a candlelit dinner, followed by a dance along the beach, ending with them staying up all night, gazing at stars until dawn's rosy fingers filled the sky with shades of pink and gold.

Eiko had very clearly expressed that this was a bad idea. And in spite of her penchant for causing trouble, Makoto valued her opinion. When it came to courting a crush, Eiko knew all the tricks in the book. The puppy dog eyes, the twirl and smile, the bend and snap – in most cases, boys were like putty in her hands. She would be lying if she didn't admit that a part of her wished she could make Akira feel the same way about her. Not like putty, no, but she wished he would see her in the same light that she saw him.

She hoped that wasn't too much to ask for.

Her seemingly inattentive ambling had brought her to the main office of Shujin Academy. She stared up at the black and white insignia of her school, which hung proudly above the door, and scowled. It had once stood in her mind as a beacon for discipline, learning, and justice. Thanks to Akira, such delusions were banished. She knew now that it was nothing more than a symbol for corruption, greed, and intolerance.

And if there was one thing she could do for Akira to show her gratitude, it was ensure his safety.

Clearing the restlessness that built within her, she put on a stern face. Her posture straightened, her shoulders locked staid, and her eyes once again burned with that fiery passion she was so noted for. Without an inkling of hesitation, she stepped through the door of the main office and spoke.

"I would like to know about the whereabouts of Akira Kurusu."

* * *

 _ **October 30, 1:52pm  
Shibuya**_

Tae Takemi was not a great driver. Or a good driver. It would be a stretch to even say she was a competent driver.

She was, however, a fast driver.

A red streak flew across the highway. The pungent smell of rubber burning asphalt polluted the air. His ears rang from the screaming of the Datsun's powerful 2.4-liter engine. At 151 horsepower and 5600 rotations per minute, it shouldn't have moved as quickly as it did. Of course, no one could have accounted for Tae.

She darted in and out of traffic like a bee weaving through a posy of flowers, fast and unhinged, but commendable in its single-mindedness. There was no hesitation in her eyes as she floored the pedal. In fact, there was a faint glimmer of excitement in those auburn hues, a light pull of her lips, as she pushed the vehicle to its limits. The faster she drove, the more her charcoal hair whipped in the wind, the more that liveliness etched upon her countenance.

She felt utterly alive.

Akira, on the other hand, would have been content arriving at their destination _actually_ alive. Clinging to the back of his seat like a child would his mother, he never removed his eyes from the road. He dug himself so deeply into his chair that the black leather spilled between the spaces of his blanched digits. Thoughts of a man facing death raced through his mind. Did he part on good terms with his friends? Did he live his life to the fullest? Were there any lingering regrets he had? He prayed to whatever god would listen that Tae would bring him back in one piece.

"So, how's school going?" she hummed, resting her arm on the rim of the window. "Are you learning anything interesting?"

"I suppose," Akira replied. If he seemed distracted, it was because his primary focus in that moment was not becoming a statistic.

"That's good." She pulled a hard right and swerved through four lanes of traffic. Ignoring the furious horns of the drivers honking behind her, she continued, "Do you have a favorite subject?"

"History," he said.

"Any reason?"

"I like learning about other cultures."

"Oh? Have you done much traveling outside of Japan?"

"Besides our school's trip to Hawaii, no," he admitted. "I would like to, though."

The sides of Tae's lips twitched. She sped past a car on her left before zipping back over to the right. "I hear it's wonderful over there. Palm trees, white sand beaches, crystal clear waters, and of course, beautiful women." Her eyes caught Akira's. "You must have had a good time."

He felt as if she had looked straight into his soul. "I did."

Leaning into her headrest, she lamented, "I never traveled. In university, I was too busy applying to medical school. And once I'd gotten into one, I was busy tearing my hair out to become a doctor. Then I was bogged down by shadowing, and residencies, and fellowships." A short pause. "It was always one goal post after the other."

Akira remained silent. Then he remarked, "You sound remorseful."

She suddenly cut across three more lanes, making him hug his seatbelt for dear life. "If I come across like that, then I've done a poor job of expressing myself," she began. "Being a doctor couldn't make me happier. Treating patients is the passion of my life." There was another short pause. "I only wish I had more time to see the world."

Once his heart had stopped trying to leap out his chest, Akira asked, "Where would you want to go?"

Like a child in a candy store, Tae's expression brightened. "Europe first. Visiting Paris has always been a dream of mine. To spend a day in the Louvre, to walk over the marbled floors of the Palace of Versailles — even in my dreams, it's a treat to visit."

"And what then?"

"Then I would go south to Spain. I would walk the days through the markets of Barcelona and dance away the nights in Ibiza. I'd have to learn some Spanish first, though. I wouldn't want to be a complete tourist in a foreign country."

"What about Pamplona?" asked Akira.

Tae lifted a brow. "What about it?"

"I imagine you'd want to attend the San Fermin."

She shrugged. "From what I hear, it's overrated."

"You won't know until you go."

His forwardness brought out another subtle smirk. "Very true, very true." Looking at him in earnest, she questioned, "Where did you hear about San Fermin from? I wouldn't imagine they taught about it in school."

"They didn't. I read it in a novel," he answered.

"Which one?"

" _The Sun Also Rises._ "

Tae clicked her tongue in realization. "Mmm, I see. I didn't take you for a reader of Hemingway, Morumotto-kun."

"I wouldn't call myself a reader. I haven't read anything else of his," he explained.

"Well I was never a fan. I could never get into that tone of his."

"Too dry?"

"Too boring."

Akira smiled. "Then who are you a fan of?"

She shrugged. "No one really."

"That can't be true."

"Dale Carnegie, if that counts. I never really followed the advice in his books, though."

"What did he write?"

" _How to Win Friends and Influence People_." She corrected her rearview mirror. "Like I said, I never really followed the advice in his books."

His face shrunk with thoughtful contemplation. "What about fiction? Do you have any favorite stories?"

Tae shook her head. "I didn't read fiction as a child, only nonfiction. It felt more applicable, something that I could actually use on a day-to-day basis. Anything that involved fantasy, or space, or alternate timelines was completely lost on me." Her lips spread slyly. "I'm sure you can tell that I was very fun to play make believe with on the playground."

Akira ruminated over her answer, the alluring cadence of jazz on the radio catching his attention. "Then how about music? Do you like jazz?"

There was a twinkle in her rounded eyes as she inhaled audibly through her nostrils. "In fact I do, Morumotto-kun."

"Why?"

"Because I want to explore the world."

He said nothing, instead opting to hear her out.

"You said you enjoy history because you like learning about other cultures? It's similar to that. Music can transport you across the world, to completely different times. It can take you through the cobbled streets of Italy, or across the wide deserts of Morocco." A childlike glow attached to her every word.

Observing the passion in her tone, Akira prompted, "How about jazz? Where does jazz take you?"

Tae closed her eyes for the briefest of moments and envisioned it. "Down to Louisiana. It takes me to the vibrant boardwalks of New Orleans, where the bright fluorescent lights mingle with the scent of brine on the shoreline wind. Everything burns orange and gold and beautiful. I can taste the smoky aroma of vanilla bourbon on my lips. It takes me past the liquor covered counter of a dive bar, all the way to the back with the cherry red booths and mahogany wood tables. It is humid and muggy and pungent with promise."

Akira too closed his eyes and pictured the scene she described. He could hear the rhythm of the snare drum, feel the pulse of the bass, smell the cloying scent of Shirley Temple grenadine. When he opened them, a shiver coursed through him. But it wasn't a shiver of fear. For the first time on this wild, crazy ride, he wasn't scared. He was excited. "You never told me you were such an explorer," he said, hanging his arm out the window, his fingers gliding against the billowing wind.

"You never asked," she cooed.

"Maybe if you didn't drug me unconscious and run tests on me every time we met, I could."

Tae genuinely laughed. It was the first time he'd heard it. It was soft and composed, and for a moment, he almost thought it sounded cute. "Who do you read, if not Hemingway?" she asked to switch the subject.

"Faulkner, Joyce, Chekhov," Akira listed. "Theirs were the only books I had."

"You're a fan of western writers," she noted.

He nodded. "My mother loved reading western literature, it was all she read. I wanted to connect with her, so I started reading it too."

"What did she read?"

"Mainly Charles Dickens, that was her favorite author."

"My sincere condolences," she teased.

He chuckled, his tussled hair whipping in the wind. "Not a fan?"

"I can't bring myself to read a writer whose primary motivation for dragging stories on and on is because he gets paid by the word."

"But he was still a great writer."

Tae chuckled. "We'll have to agree to disagree there."

Akira tapped his fingers individually against the exterior of the car door. "I remembered my mother reading a chapter of _Oliver Twist_ to me before I went to bed every night."

"Sounds like torture."

"I'd like to think I'm better for suffering through it."

"Whatever you tell yourself to fall sleep at night."

"I slept wonderfully whenever she read it to me, if you must know."

Tae's cheeks rose. "So you're telling me the best compliment you have for the man is that he puts you to bed?"

"Maybe if you'd be more open to him if you had a better night's rest."

Another laugh. "Touché."

"You don't need to practice your French around me, Tae," Akira smiled. "I already know want to go to France."

She shot him a sidelong glance. "Sometimes you're too clever for your own good, Morumotto-kun."

He decided to take that as a compliment. "Besides the length of his stories, what else didn't you like about Dickens?"

"Oh you know, how bone-dry his plots are, how unimaginably goody-two-shoes his main characters are," Tae listed in a sing-songy tone.

"You're being too hard on him."

"So you enjoyed being read _Oliver Twist_ every night?"

He let out a swift exhale. "No, definitely no. It was beyond boring."

"I thought so."

"But I remember that my mom was busy with work one weekend. She didn't come home until late in the night. And as much as I hated listening to Dickens, I couldn't fall asleep until she came home and read a chapter to me."

"Like I said," Tae taunted, "The best thing you have to say about him is that he puts you to sleep."

Akira's lips bowed into a grin. "I know you're joking."

She responded with one of her own. "Only partially."

He paused and stared into the thicket of bare trees obscuring the skyline. "I think it's the memories I associate with Dickens that make me so fond of him. I remember falling asleep to my mother's voice as she read to me." He thought back to his childhood, his mother's hand running through his hair, the kisses she placed on his forehead, the blankets being tucked in beneath him. His complexion lightened. "Even today, when I read _Oliver Twist_ , I feel safe. I'm taken back to the days when she brought hot cocoa up to my room on cold winter nights. It makes me feel like I'm home."

It was only after he'd spoken the words that he noticed Tae's gaze was no longer on the road. Rather, it was solely fixated upon him. That wide, bright smile of hers had returned. But unlike before, it didn't instill fear in Akira. It made him feel hopeful.

And then, she said something he never imagined he'd hear from those lips.

"Thank you."

Akira's face suddenly grew red hot with embarrassment. Realizing the sincerity of what he'd shared with her, he shrunk away and dragged his hand back into the car. "Sorry, I got carried away," he said, readjusting his glasses up on his face.

"Don't be," Tae assuaged. "You were being honest with me." After a few more moments of examining him like she would a patient, she returned her sights to the road. "It's a beautiful thing, to feel so comfortable around someone that you abandon your defenses and lower your mask."

Her words caused Akira to rise in his seat, though he was reticent to say more than needed. "How do you mean?" he asked.

Tae drew idle circles on her car door, the wind flurrying against her hand. "We always wear masks, Akira," she said. "We act differently around different people, that's human nature. But so long as these masks are true representations of ourselves, there's nothing wrong with that. It's when we put on masks that betray our true natures that we begin to lose who we are." She passed him a look full of compassion. "I would never have expected you to remove your mask for anyone but yourself. But you did for me today, Akira, even if it was only for a split second. So thank you. Thank you for letting me truly see you."

He allowed the gravity of her statement to hit him before mustering a response. "Of course Tae. And thank you for letting me see a part of you today, too."

Tae loudly blew a puff air out her nose. "Don't get used to it," she remarked. "You just happened to catch me in a good mood today."

Akira thought of protesting her claim, but elected not to. Just as she allowed him to wear his mask, so too did he oblige her. "What's the reason?" he asked instead.

"You."

He blinked. "Come again?"

"These past few months, I've made major breakthroughs in developing Miwa-chan's medicine. It's all thanks to you, Muromoto-kun, that I've come this far. Using you as my guinea pig has been instrumental to my success. Your unremarkably average body has worked splendidly for testing my drug."

Akira remained silent. He wasn't sure if he should say you're welcome.

"Today," she continued. "I discovered that I had nearly perfected my work. I just need to test my latest batch and make the final calibrations. Once I'm finished, not only will Miwa-chan be cured, but so will thousands of other children. So many lives will be saved."

And then a devilish glint appeared in her eyes. The warmth of her visage vanished, replaced in its stead by cold, Machiavellian ambition.

"And you're not going anywhere until it's complete."

Akira's brows grooved at the sudden, dark shift in her tone. What appeared to be an innocuous car ride had suddenly gone terribly awry. "What do you mean? I can't-"

The doors locked shut.

"Like I said," Tae breathed, "You're not going anywhere until my work is complete. Now, be a good little guinea pig and relax. There's much testing to be done, and I can't have my test subject be tense beforehand. It might mess up the results."

His throat plunged into his stomach as they barreled at a breakneck pace of ninety-five miles per hour down the highway. The wind blew the sweet scent of autumn susurrations upon his lips. There were no speed limits, no turn signals, and no bathroom breaks.

And most importantly, there was no getting off this wild ride.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 3:04pm  
Shujin Academy**_

The final bell of the day rang. Within the sea of identically clad students, who poured like ants out of Shujin Academy's main entrance, were Ryuji and Ann. The former's face was creased in anger, the latter's in worry.

"Man, it's friggin' hot out today," Ryuji groused. "It feels like it's still summer."

"I know," Ann said, "I was dying in class today."

"Hey, at least you got a window seat. I'm stuck in the middle of the room where things get the stuffiest." With a resounding groan, he muttered, "Ugh, I feel so gross right now. I need a shower..."

Ann offered a slight smile, though it dissipated into a frown as she pondered the whereabouts of their leader. "Do you think Akira will be okay?" she asked. "I hope nothing bad happened to him."

Ryuji's expression hardened, but he played it off with a recalcitrant snort. "Meh, I'm sure he's fine. I mean, think of everything that's happened to us these past few months. Do you really think Akira would be that careless and get himself expelled?"

"But he was called down to the main office and never came back." Ann sighed. "I'm worried Ryuji, I think he might really be in big trouble."

"Hey, when has Akira ever been in situation he couldn't get out of? He's fine. Trust me, he's gotten out of way worse."

His words did little to console her. "If you say so."

Noticing that he wasn't reaching her, Ryuji punched his fist into his palm and continued, "But if he's not okay, I'm going to beat the shit out of the bastards who screwed with him! They'll be sorry they ever messed with the Phantom Thieves!"

That seemed to do the trick. Bringing her fists to her chest, Ann huffed, "Yeah! No one messes with Akira on our watch!"

Just as they began to rile themselves up, they heard a voice from behind them remark, "Before you start a commotion you should probably know that Akira is fine."

They swung around in unison to see who had spoken. To their surprise it was Makoto, who was sitting comfortably at the top of the stairs they had just descended. "I just went to the main office and had a talk with the interim president. It seems he was let out of school early because of an emergency, but otherwise, he's perfectly alright."

"Ah, Makoto! That's amazing news!" Ann took a seat next to Makoto and rested her arms over her bent knees. "Seriously, I don't know what I would've done if something happened to him. I was so worried all day thinking about it."

Makoto agreed. "I was worried too, Ann. But we can rest knowing that at the least he hasn't found himself in any trouble with the school."

"Damn, that's a huge relief," Ryuji said. "Thanks for lettin' us know, Niijima-san. You're incredible." He leaned against a wall and smiled down at her.

"Yeah, thanks Makoto!" Ann cheered, ringing her arms around her friend. "I can't believe you were able to get that kind of information out of the substitute president, you're amazing!"

Makoto felt the onset of a blush mantling her cheeks. "Well, I do have some perks as student council president."

"I'll say! Is there anything you can't do, Niijima-san?" Ann beamed.

Win Akira's heart – was what she thought, but didn't say.

Throwing two fists into the air, Ryuji cheered, "Well, now that Akira's safe, let's go celebrate!"

"But he wasn't in any danger in the first place," Makoto corrected. "We only thought he was."

"Er, uh, well yeah, but..."

"Don't mind him," Ann snickered. "He just wants an excuse to stuff his face with ramen. Isn't that right, Sakamoto?"

"Hey! Totally not cool!" he yelled, wiping the sweat forming on his brow.

Ann hid her laughter in her palm. "It's the truth though, right?"

"Yeah, but I mean, still…" Ryuji grumbled. Shaking off the insult, he turned to Makoto with a bright grin. "So, what do you say? Wanna come grab some ramen with me, Niijima-san?"

Before Makoto could answer, Ann spoke up for her.

"She's busy, Ryuji. Unlike you, she has her grades to look out for."

Ryuji frowned. "Man Takamaki. You are being relentless today, you know that?"

"Sorry," she giggled. "You just make yourself such an easy target."

He let out a deep harrumph and rumbled at Ann, "Well, do _you_ at least wanna get some ramen with me?"

She shook her head. "No can do. I'm going to the mall with Haru today."

"What?! Again?! Didn't you just go out shopping yesterday?"

"For your information, it was only window shopping. We didn't actually get to pick out that much."

"Fine, whatever." With a boisterous pout, Ryuji conceded, "Alright, guess I'll just go by myself then."

"I'm sorry, Ryuji," Makoto apologized. "I'll go with you another day, I promise."

He rubbed the underside of his nose. "Ah, it's no problem Niijima-san. I understand that you're busy. Your work is way more important than grabbing some noodles." Passing over Ann, he muttered, "But you have no excuse, you money-spending shrew."

"Hey!" Ann yelled. "Where the hell did that come from, Ryuji?"

He didn't answer her. Throwing up two fingers, he parted, "Later Ann, Niijima-san," and headed for the subway.

Once he was out of sight, Ann thinned her gaze on the area he occupied. "I can't believe he called me a shrew..." she murmured. "He's such a jerk sometimes."

Makoto's lips pulled upwards. "He can be a bit much sometimes. But you did push his buttons, Ann."

"Yeah… you're right," she said. "But it's totally different when I make fun of him!"

"Oh really?"

"Definitely!"

Before Makoto could reply, she felt something latch onto her arm. Or, in this case, someone.

"Niiji-sannnn! I found you!" It was the one and only queen of gossip, Eiko Takao. Squeezing against Makoto so hard that she pancaked her between herself and Ann, she squealed, "Come on, let's get going! We've like got a lot of work to do if we're wanna be ready for tonight."

"Ready for tonight?" Ann echoed, passing a confused glance to Makoto.

Makoto's heart felt like it skipped a beat. She had told Ann after English that she wouldn't be able to spend time with her because she was going to be busy studying. If she knew the truth, she would be devastated. "I promised Eiko that we would study together tonight," she swiftly lied. "That's why I couldn't accept your invitation to go out."

"Huh? Wait, Niiji-san, I thought we we-" Eiko began. She stopped when she felt a rough nudge of Makoto's shoulder against her own.

"Eiko doesn't like to study alone, so I told her I would help her out. The more the merrier, right?" As Makoto finished her explanation, she sent a vehement glare to Eiko, one that said 'not another word.'

Falling in line, Eiko quickly feigned, "Ah, r-right! We were gonna study math and stuff! You know, like triggernomics!"

A long pause.

"Ah, well I guess that makes sense," Ann finally said. She stood up and swayed her pointer finger at the two before departing, "Well, don't let me keep you waiting! Have fun tonight, you two. And good luck on your test!"

"Wait, Takamaki," Makoto said, standing up after her friend. "Do you want us to walk with you to the subway?"

Ann shook her head. "I'm going to be meeting Haru in Shinjuku. Thanks for the offer though, I appreciate it!" Her eyes shrunk as she smiled.

"I see." With an expression of joy that betrayed her inner regret, she sang, "Take care, then. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Likewise!" Ann gleamed. And just like that, she and her platinum blonde locks disappeared from view.

As Ann departed, Makoto sensed the turmoil within her growing. She had just lied to her friend, and worse than that, it was straight to her face. _"It's to protect her,"_ she reasoned, biting down on her inner cheek. _"She wouldn't understand if I tried to explain it. It's better this way."_

While she was still deep in thought, Eiko leaned toward her and asked, "Hey Niiji-san, were you like being serious back there about studying? I thought we were gonna go shopping at Shibuya."

Makoto turned to face Eiko. "We are. I just... I couldn't tell Ann that we were."

"Ooo, is that juicy gossip I sense? What's going on between you and Takamaki!"

"It's nothing. Let's just go. I don't want to talk about this anymore." Without saying another word, Makoto stormed off, her hands balled tightly by her sides.

Blinking like an owl, Eiko shouted, "Wait!" as she trailed after her friend. "Come on, Niiji-san, don't be like that! You can tell me, I promise I won't say anything!"

As they left Shujin, the sun, which had so faithfully shone in the middle of the sky, began to dim behind the cover of the clouds. A looming darkness followed Makoto's shadow, and the convocation of dusk began to creep over the yellowed horizon.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 4:12pm  
Cafe Leblanc**_

Ryuji stormed into the cafe with the subtlety of a bulldozer. Despite being the one who organized the meeting to help Akira with his lady problem, he was the last to arrive. Panting wildly as he swung open the front door, he yelled, "Yo! I'm here!" and scanned the room for his friends.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Late as usual, Sakamoto-kun," he heard a haughty voice twitter at him from the booth by the door. His head whipped sideways. Sitting in the booth were Yusuke and Akechi, each with a cup of freshly brewed coffee in hand. Akechi, who had mocked him earlier, leaned forward in his seat and remarked, "You've made a habit of never showing up on time, as well as making a ruckus whenever it is that you show up. You're quite lucky that Sakura-san is not currently present, he certainly would not have appreciated the way you handled the front door."

Ryuji would have replied with a snappy comment if he could think of one. But in that moment, there was only one concern on his mind. "Where's Akira?"

"We were hoping you could tell us more about that," Akechi said, bringing the brew to his lips in one clean, elegant motion. "I believe you said in the group chat that he was picked up from school for an emergency, correct?"

Ryuji nodded. "Yeah, that's what Makoto told me and Ann. She heard about it from the substitute president at Shujin." Sliding into the booth beside Yusuke, he murmured, "I guess he hasn't made it back yet, huh."

Akechi hummed into his gloved hand. "Well, if he is preoccupied with an emergency, there is little else that can be done."

"What are you talkin' about? This is an emergency right here!"

"I wonder if my drawings would look sweeter if I mixed coffee into my palette..." Yusuke mused, oblivious of the conversation occurring around him.

"I agree that the situation is rather dire," started Akechi. "I even took a day off my detective duties so that I could be here with you all today. But we shouldn't get ourselves too worked up over all of this. After all, it is still just a text."

"Yeah, but it's a text that says I love you," Ryuji stressed. "Do you know how bad that'd be if that message got sent to someone like Ann, or Haru? That'd make the whole going around being Phantom Thieves thing, like, mega awkward!"

Akechi rubbed his chin as if checking for beard stubble. "Hm. I hadn't considered that."

"That's because you don't get girls!"

"And you do, Sakamoto-kun?"

"Y-yeah! Or at least, I get them better than you!"

"What if perhaps I used curry?" continued Yusuke to himself. "Could the properties of cumin and turmeric elevate my work to its next level?"

"In that case, we should make a plan to handle the worst case scenario," Akechi said.

"Worst case scenario?" Ryuji asked. "What's the worst case scenario in this situation?"

Akechi's complexion turned severe. Resting his chin on the apex of his steepled fingers, he surmised, "We know that Akira is not the most verbose when it comes to speaking with women, especially when the topic of discussion is romance. We also know, given our experiences with him, that women tend to be drawn toward him. Given that he will likely broach the topic of the contents of the message with all of the women he is close to, it is possible that he will accidentally incite their hidden desire for him. From this, we can predict the worst case scenario."

"Uh…" droned Ryuji, still lost on the point Akechi was trying to make. "So what are you gettin' at?"

"What I'm getting at," Akechi said, "Is that the worst case scenario is Akira stealing the hearts of all his female companions."

There was a short pause.

It was crudely interrupted by Ryuji bursting into laughter.

"Hahahaha! What are you talkin' about dude? Are you seriously sayin' that Akira's some kinda playboy?!" Ryuji howled. "He's an idiot when it comes to girls! I mean, the last time he tried talking to a waitress at the Shibuya Diner, he started choking on an ice cube mid order. Totally scared her away. She was so traumatized, we had to get a new one."

"I'm not saying it's the most likely scenario," Akechi corrected, "Just the worst possible one."

"Yeah, yeah," he said flippantly. "The day Akira shows up with a girl wrapped around his arm is the day I kiss one!"

The right side of Akechi's mouth curved unnaturally up his face. "You've never kissed a girl, Sakamoto-kun?"

Flabbergasted by his statement, Ryuji spluttered, "Er, uh, well, no but… T-That's besides the point!"

"Oh, did I broach a sensitive topic?"

"Shaddup!"

"I thought you 'got girls' better than me, Sakamoto."

"I said shaddup!"

"I wonder if crushed paprika can be used as a substitute for red paint..." Yusuke pondered.

"Dammit Yusuke!" Ryuji roared, surging from his seat. "Could you stop thinkin' about your doodles for one second and help us out here?!"

It wasn't a second after Ryuji's tantrum that the door to _Leblanc_ burst open. All their gazes turned to the entrance, and an expression of impossible shock spread across their countenances.

"Akira-san."

"Akira, is that…?"

"Woah! W-w-what the hell are you doing with…!"

With a throaty groan, Akira Kurusu stumbled into _Leblanc_. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were a mess, and his eyes, normally calm and analytic, were half-lidded and as bloodshot as an alcoholic sailor's. Taking a groggy step forward, he fell straight onto his stomach, his legs incapable of supporting his body. As he laid motionless on the ground, he extended a wobbling arm toward his friends and, with the last of his strength, mumbled a single word:

"Help."

Before they could assist their friend to his feet, a seemingly innocuous voice rung in their ears. "Oh my," it soothed, "You seem to have fallen. Let me help you up." A deadly premonition crossed each of the boys' instincts. Stepping over his body, a woman in a white lab coat reached down and, with a hard tug, pulled Akira back to his feet. She wrapped her arm around Akira's and introduced herself with a mischievous wink.

"Good afternoon boys, my name is Tae Takemi. Could I have a word with you?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello friends! I hope you are all doing well. Once again, thank you all for your tremendous support, it is very much appreciated! It is because of readers like you that I continue to write with such fervor.

About two weeks ago, I had the idea to update _three words to die for_ twice a week instead of once. The goal in mind was to progress the story at a faster rate and generate more content for you, the readers. I wanted to do this because I wasn't satisfied by how slowly I was pushing out content. It felt like I was slogging along, rewriting parts of my chapters more than I was progressing with the plot.

However, after some long consideration, I decided against this idea. My writing process involves spattering all my words and thoughts and ideas onto a page, and then going back and heavily editing that scribbled mess over a period of three or four days. However, I am not currently at a literary level where I can write both quantity and quality. Thus, I chose the latter because I felt that you all deserved a carefully written story updated once a week much more than a jumbled mess of ideas twice a week. In conclusion, I just want to say thank you all for being so patient with me as I slowly pump out these chapters. It will be a long journey to the finish, but I hope you will all embark on it with me!

Until next week, friends.

 **EDIT:** I've realized that this chapter as well as my earlier ones are rather slow-paced and stringent in tone for a fanfiction. This is good for me to know. As a writer, it is important to write for one's audience, and if I'm not properly doing so, I need to make adaptations to my writing style. While there are certainly times when a writer has to stick to his or her own style of writing, I believe in this case, writing an enjoyable and more interesting story for my audience is more important. Thank you, Rimuru, for pointing this out to me in the reviews. I will try my best to work on this!

Furthermore, if there are any individuals out there who would be interested in helping me edit or look over my work before I publish it (I know, it sounds _super_ fun...), I would be immensely appreciative.

Thanks again, friends!

 **NEXT TIME:** death ii


	5. day two - death ii

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.

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 **death ii**

* * *

 _ **October 30, 4:17pm  
Cafe Leblanc**_

Whatever the attitude of the room was before she entered, Tae Takemi killed it stone dead.

 _Leblanc_ was like a noshery out of a fairytale, furnished with hand carved decor and vintage cone sconce lights. Ceramic tiled floors, mason jars brimming with coffee beans, and comfy cherry oak stools added to its feel of rustic folksiness. She would have loved to sit by the bar and relax to a cup of Tanzania Peaberry. Unfortunately, given her current situation, she could not afford such a luxury.

"Hey! You!" shouted Ryuji. The belligerent teenager stood between Tae and Akira, who had slipped from Tae's grip and was splayed once again across the floor like a doormat. "You're that doctor who works in the clinic across the street, yeah? What did you do to Akira! If you did anything to hurt him, I'll... I'll...!"

This must have been one of Akira's friends, Tae thought. He looked impressionable enough. With a suggestive arch of her brow, she pursed her lips and leaned forward. "You'll what? Tell me, what _exactly_ will you do to me?"

Ryuji looked exactly where she wanted him to. His ogle soaked in the image of Tae Takemi's bared chest. It was smooth, and luscious, and shapely, and... and _Akira you lucky bastard, you got a physical examination from_ _ **her**_ _?!_ His face simmered red as a beet. "Er...! W-well... you know... I'm gonna..." he faltered, lost in her alabaster neckline.

"You can say it, I won't bite," she goaded, her smile twisting.

"I'm going to! I just need to…"

"Need to what?"

"I need to think! Alright?! So could you stop cutting me off like that! I was just about to say… something…"

"Go on then. Say it."

"Alright, I will! I'm gonna… Er, what I mean is… You're a…!"

"My eyes are up here, sweetness."

He stopped, paralyzed like a statue.

"I know, my chest is nice, but you reminding me all day with that lecherous stare of yours is making me uncomfortable."

Like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, he denied all culpability. "What? Psh! What the hell are you talking about? I wasn't looking at your ch-ch-ches..." The broken word caught in Ryuji's mouth like a hooked and gaffed fish.

Even if it was enjoyable to see him squirm under the influence of a woman, Akechi had endured enough of his companion's flummoxing. "Pardon my friend, miss," the detective interrupted, lifting from his seat. "He may be a little slow in the skull, but he has good intentions at heart."

"Huh?! Slow in the skull?!" cried Ryuji. "I'll show you slow in the skull, you shitty…!"

"Oh my, such manners. And from someone so young, nonetheless," Tae said, ignoring Ryuji's outburst. She stepped toward Akechi and craned her neck. "You look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?"

He bowed genteelly. "Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Goro Akechi. A pleasure to meet you, Takemi-san."

"Ah, right. The high school Sherlock Holmes. You're the one who's always talking about capturing the Phantom Thieves."

"Indeed, I am the very same."

"Everyone's calling you the next Detective Prince."

He chuckled and grasped the back of his neck. "Hah, well, that's merely a name the media has given me. I've always admired the original Detective Prince, but it was never my intention to take on the mantle. Truthfully, I find the title somewhat undeserved, albeit very flattering."

Tae smiled a big, fake PR smile. "I couldn't agree more."

For the shortest of seconds, Akechi clenched his jaw. Tugging on his collar to relieve the tension around his neck, he continued, "So, now that we've finished with the introductions, I must ask: why have you brought our friend back to us in such a sickly state?"

She nudged the prone boy's body with the fronts her platform gladiator sandals. "Akira was assisting me with something important. Don't worry, he'll be back to normal in an hour or so. Isn't that right, Morumotto-kun?" Her question succeeded in eliciting a low-pitched groan. "See? He's practically conscious."

"Conscious my ass! He looks like he's been shot!" barked Ryuji.

His head tilting sideways, Akechi asked, "What exactly was the nature of this assistance, Takemi-san?"

"Just a physical examination," she answered. "I didn't expect him to be so tired afterwards though."

"A... p-physical examination?" murmured Ryuji, the blood draining from his face. "You don't mean..."

"It was a long one, especially in this heat. But he performed beyond my expectations. That's Morumotto-kun, always finding ways to surprise you."

The blood that had left Ryuji's complexion quickly flowed back to his head as his blush blossomed like petals on a dogwood tree.

"Anyway," Tae said, brandishing her hand. "I didn't come here for pleasantries. I wanted to ask you all a question."

"By all means, ask away," Akechi said.

An aura of uncertainty suddenly shrouded Tae Takemi. Her once confident body language grew taciturn and the volume of her voice diminished. Holding onto her arms, she averted her gaze and asked, "Has Akira mentioned anything about... going on a date with me?"

The boys traded confounded glances. Even the levelheaded Akechi was rendered dumbstruck. "Oh. Ah. Ahem. Well, that's an interesting question," he muttered. "Sakamoto, do you happen to know if Akira mentioned anything about Takemi-san?"

Ryuji's jaw dropped ajar. "What?! You're asking me that?!"

"You were the first friend he made when he moved here, no?" Akechi contended. "I would imagine if he divulged his secrets to anyone, it would be you."

He huffed and shifted his weight onto his protruded right leg. "I mean, yeah Akira and I are close... But it's not like he ever talked about girl stuff like that with me!"

The chagrin on Tae's face disappeared as quickly as it came. "Hm. Well, if that's all you know, I suppose I'll just ask him when he's more lucid." Checking the time on the clock hung up on the wall, she frowned, "I should be heading back. Thanks for the conversation, boys."

"Wait! You can't just leave! What are we supposed to do with him?" Ryuji exclaimed, gesturing to the still collapsed Akira.

"If his condition doesn't improve in the next hour, have him take two pills of Morakashi," Tae said. "It's an over-the-counter drug that acts as a minor stimulant, it should keep him awake until his side effects wear off."

"Alright. Morakashi... Morakashi..." Ryuji repeated in an attempt to commit the name to memory.

"Farewell, Takemi-san. It was a joy to meet you," Akechi said, bowing as she left.

As she was about to head out, the bell of the front entrance rang, signaling that someone had entered _Leblanc_. Pivoting on her heels, she was greeted to yet another familiar face. "Ah, Sojiro. I was wondering where you were."

"Hm?" The elderly man who'd just walked through the door blinked repeatedly. "Ah, is that you, Tae? What are you doing here?"

Despite his advanced age, Sojiro Sakura was a charming man. He owed it to the namesake of his cafe to be so. His deep, steady baritone fit well with his serious countenance, which was defined by a strong jawline and shallow, caved in cheeks. His receding hairline ended in a flat widow's peak, and his magnificent facial hair – a chin curtain which extended into a crescent beard at the tip of his chin – captured the attention of all who came into his shop. And fortunately for him, he happened to be capturing the attention of Yongen-Jaya's premiere medical vixen.

"I came by for a quick visit, just to see how things were going," Tae said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "It seems your clientele has lowered immensely in age since the last time I visited."

Sojiro chortled, his voice low and smooth. "Well, if you stayed for a while longer, you could raise the average."

Tae's dimples became visible. "Hah. Please, just how old do you think I am?"

"Old enough to give these cadets a run for their money, that's for sure."

Tae's grin tapered. "Well, I promise I'll come by soon. Once I'm finished with my work, you'll see more of me."

Sojiro nodded politely. "I look forward to it."

"As do I. Take care Sojiro, I'll see you around." She waved goodbye to him, and then sent a short, flashing smirk to the trio of boys before exiting the cafe.

Once she had left, Sojiro let out a thoughtful sigh and stared at the space where she once stood. For a second, he was so preoccupied with thoughts of her that he hadn't even noticed Akira lying on the ground. Stepping forward onto the boy's leg, he jolted to attention and exclaimed, "Eh? Akira, what are you doing lying down there? Get up, you're going to scare away the customers."

Akira's arms twitched as Sojiro roused him. Rising to his feet like a drunkard who'd been kicked to the curb, he toppled into the booth next to Akechi and passed out against the investigator's shoulder.

"But we're the only ones in here, Boss," muttered Ryuji, eyes watching Akira to make sure he didn't hurt himself or anyone else.

Sojiro was silent for a moment. "I meant the _other_ customers," he finally clarified with a cross of his arms. "Just how long have you been lying on the floor like that? No wonder business has been so slow today. I go out for twenty minutes and this is what happens..." Grumbling under his breath, he walked behind the counter and resumed his duty as manager of the cafe.

Once Sojiro had removed himself from the conversation, Akechi turned his attention to Akira, who was wedged up against his arm. Grinning down at their sleeping leader, he prodded the side of his cheek with his shoulder. "Come on. Time for you to wake up, Akira. There's much for us to discuss and so little time for us to discuss it."

Akira whined. Wiping away the drool that had accumulated on the side of his mouth, he rumbled, "Ugh... What happened?"

"Your smokin' hot lady friend ditched you here," Ryuji said.

Smoking hot, Akira thought. That must have been Tae. Holding his head still, he winced in pain and tried to recollect himself.

"It's nice to see you awake, Akira-san," Akechi said. "Are you feeling better now?"

He knuckled the exhaustion from his eyelids. "Not really."

"Ugh! That damn witch really gets on my nerves!" Ryuji raged. "Treating me like I'm some kind of kid... She's another shitty adult, just like the rest of 'em!"

"She did seem rather antagonistic," Akechi said.

"Yeah," Akira said, resting his upper body on the table and burying his face into his arms. He looked like was completely hungover.

"What did she do you to, man?" Ryuji asked. "You look awful."

"It's a long story."

"Didn't she mention a 'physical examination' or something? What does that mean, Akira?"

"Does that mean she was able to see Akira fully nude before I was?" asked Yusuke.

"W-woah! That's _not_ what a physical examination is... r-right?" Ryuji swallowed and leaned in to listen to Akira, his face a mix of nervousness and curiosity.

"I'm curious as well..." said Akechi. "What exactly did Takemi-san mean by 'physical examination,' Akira?"

Akira's face grew harsh, and the memories slowly poured back…

* * *

 _ **October 30, 2:15pm  
Takemi Medical Clinic**_

Nestled within the nooks of the Yongen-Jaya back alleys was a lone medical clinic. A set of stained white stairs led up to a ramshackled blue door, its paint peeling in puzzle-shaped pieces from the frame. Past it was a waiting room, dimly illuminated by flickering fluorescent lights. Red seats hugged the deteriorated walls, which were littered by loosely stapled medical forms.

Akira always felt bad coming here. Whether it was the claustrophobic atmosphere or the Pavlovian effects of Tae's clinical trials, he couldn't discern. But what he did know was when the door to the examination room opened, a sense of indescribable dread fell over him.

"Come on, Morumotto-kun," Tae urged Akira like an owner to her pet. "Let's begin."

He sat on the sick bed, the white paper cover crinkling beneath him. Tae put on her lab coat and sat in the chair across from him. She swiveled to face her desk, shuffling through documents until she found one in particular. Shaking it off, she gave it a back-handed smack to signal her seal of approval. Then, she rotated to face Akira. He didn't like the glint in her eye as she scanned him from head-to-toe. It was almost as if she were sizing him up.

"I'm going to have you take ten pills today," she said. "I'll record your vitals after each one. If they're still stable after the tenth, that will prove this drug is ready for use and you'll be free to go." Reaching into her lab coat, she tossed him a pill bottle.

Akira caught it and examined its contents. At first, the procedure seemed simple enough. However, upon closer inspection of the bottle, he spotted a bold red label printed on its side: 'maximum recommended dosage is two pills a day.' Now, he wasn't a doctor, but he had a sinking feeling about this. "Is this safe?"

The sides of Tae's eyes wrinkled. "No."

He swallowed audibly.

Putting aside her clipboard, she crossed her right leg over the left and gathered her hands on her lap. "I'm only kidding. Partially. It's not life threatening, but you'll start feeling dizzy after the third pill. After the fifth pill, you'll start losing motor functions, and after the tenth, you'll likely be hallucinating. Sounds good?"

Wonderful. Wait, did she say loss of motor functions? And hallucinations? He inwardly wondered if this was a drug for treatment or another type of drug entirely...

"The lack of motor function will only last for two hours or so. After that, it'll start to wear off. You'll at least be able to walk by tonight."

By tonight… tonight. His eyes shot open. He suddenly remembered his date with Makoto. It was immensely important that he make it and that he was lucid enough to discuss the subject in question: the text message he might have potentially sent her. The one with those three fateful words: I love you. It pained him to deny her after coming all this way, but he had no choice. He'd already promised. "I can't accept, Tae. I'm sorry."

She scrunched her nose with mild surprise. "That's an odd way of agreeing."

"I need to be somewhere tonight, I can't do this."

"And I need you here right now. See how we can both play this game?"

"I'm sorry, I really can't."

"Can't, or won't?"

"Tae," he said solemnly. "I can't agree to these terms. I'm sorry, but that's my final answer. I can help you another time, but today isn't a good time for me. I'm… a little preoccupied."

Her good-natured smile disappeared. The sudden levity in her tone also vanished, replaced by a sincerity he had only seen earlier that day in her car. "I know you have your reservations. I would too in your position. But I really do need your help. Every day it takes for me to develop this drug, Miwa-chan's condition deteriorates." Her once domineering attitude had tempered considerably, and the softness of her eyes spoke to Akira's compassion.

"My friend at the hospital called today. He told me she's suddenly taken a turn for the worse. The muscle degeneration symptomatic of Crawford-Ende's has started spreading to her heart. I'm scared that by the time I've finished making this drug, it'll be too late. That's why I need to complete it as soon as possible. We made amazing progress last week, but it isn't enough." Another short pause, her eyes falling to the floor. "I know what I'm asking is selfish, but I wouldn't be putting you in this position unless I absolutely had to."

Akira's disposition quickly changed. "Tae…" he hushed.

"I never wanted money, or prestige, or fame for finding the cure to Crawford-Ende's. I've only ever wanted to see that sweet little girl… I only ever wanted to see her grow up and smile." She looked at him, eyes misty with the onset of tears. "Please."

That pained look in her eyes was enough to move mountains. If she had only told him how dire the situation was from the beginning, he would have agreed outright. Date with Makoto or not, that was the only possible answer. Wordlessly, he placed one of the pills in his mouth and swallowed heavily.

Tae felt her chest tighten from the gesture. She blinked away her tears and smiled in earnest. "Thank you, Akira. I can't tell you how much this means to me." She took out her pencil and clipboard and began writing down notes.

After five minutes had passed, Akira took the next pill. And after five more, another. By the time he reached his fourth pill, he was beginning to feel lightheaded and dizzy. Just as he was about to tip over, he felt a hand on his shoulder keep him balanced.

"Don't worry, Akira," Tae said. "I'm here to watch over you. I promise I won't let anything happen to you while I'm here."

It was her reassurance that kept him going. He took another pill and felt his arms grow flimsy and weak. Another pill and his legs were jelly. He laid back and put a hand to his forehead. That last one certainly had a kick to it. Half-lidded and lethargic, he fought the overpowering urge to sleep.

After half an hour, he was on his seventh dose. Drool spilling from the side of his mouth, Akira swayed back and forth like a dippy bird. His brain felt like mush, and he felt like if he spoke, his words would come out a garbled mess. He couldn't be like this for tonight, he thought. He had to get to his date with Makoto.

"D-date…" he mumbled.

"Hm?"

"I… I need to go on a date…"

Tae couldn't quite make out what he was saying. She simply continued writing onto her clipboard. "Just a few pills more and we'll be finished. Hold on a bit longer."

After he'd taken the tenth pill, Akira felt very unwell. The world melted in a nightmarish dreamscape around him. Everything was spinning and circling and twisting and turning like a Salvador Dali painting. Nothing stuck in his mind, words passed in one ear and out the other. Delirious images of people he knew played like illusions over his unblinking eyes. He saw Igor, Caroline and Justine, his Personas, his friends… and then Makoto. She was there in front of him, her short hazel hair framing her gorgeous complexion. She looked so good in this lighting. He wanted to reach out and touch her. He wanted to touch that smooth face, those demure cheeks, that cute, round mouth.

 _I'm really looking forward to our date._

Our date, she said.

Date.

His eyes widened in realization.

"Tae," Akira called out, his gravelly voice backed with urgency. He tried to sit up, but only succeeded in flopping like a fish on the bed.

"Settle down, Akira. You really shouldn't be moving right now, you're still-"

"I need… I need to go… on a date..."

This time Tae heard him. A puzzled look formed on her face. "A date? With who?"

It's with Makoto, he thought. You need to let me go. She has a date with me tonight. I need to get ready, I can't be unprepared on my date. It's a matter of extreme importance. I promised her I would be there. I need to go. Please help me, Tae. I need to go.

He struggled to speak the words. And to his credit, he did rather well in forming a sentence. The only issue was it wasn't the sentence he wanted to form.

"You… need to… go… with me... on… a... date… Tae..."

Tae's face burned red. Hastily, she turned away from him to conceal her expression. She tried to occupy herself with her clipboard, but to no avail. His words kept playing in her mind. A date. Akira wanted to go on a date… with her?

No, that couldn't be right. Why would Akira say that? He never indicated any interest in her before. It must have been the pills. "Sure, sure," she said, trying to play it off like he was a rambling madman. "And I'm sure you're also in love with me too, right? You're not thinking straight right now, Akira. Come back and talk to me when you're a few years older."

"No… really Tae… I need to go on… a date… with you..."

His reiteration of the statement shocked her. Her turned face flowered even redder and than before. "What are you talking about, Akira? You can't seriously be thinking about dating me."

"Tae… I want to… go… I need to go on a date…"

"W-what…?"

"Please, Tae… please…"

She was so busy thinking about what he said that she'd almost forgotten to measure his vitals. Scribbling down the last of her notes, her pencil tip cracking from the force of her pressing into the paper, she berated him, "You can't just say these kinds of irresponsible things without consequence, Akira. Just because you opened up to me today doesn't mean you want to date me. That's ridiculous, that's…"

Tae's voice was drowned out in his thoughts. He had to get her to understand the severity of the situation. He'd accidentally sent a three word message to one of his contacts: _I love you._ He had to find out who he sent that message to, and to do that, he had to go on a date with Makoto. He needed her to understand.

"Tae…" he intervened, his voice weak, his eyes locked solely on hers. "I… I love you…"

"..."

There were less than a hand's count of times in Tae's life where she found herself at a complete loss of words.

This was one of them.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 4:25pm  
Cafe Leblanc**_

"So? What happened man? Don't just leave us hanging."

Akira's attention focused back on Ryuji. He knew he'd said something to Tae in his delirious state of mind. It tore at him, ate at him. But he couldn't recall what exactly it was he said. Holding the side of his head in pain, he rumbled, "I don't remember."

Ryuji threw his hands down and grunted in disbelief. "What?! You kiddin' me?! A woman like _that_ does a physical examination on you, and you don't even remember it! You're the lamest guy I know, dude."

"If I recall correctly, you couldn't even hold a conversation with a woman without devolving into a stuttering mess," twittered Akechi.

"Hey! If you'd seen what she was doin' to try and seduce me, you'd…!"

"Oi! Keep it down over there, you're going to scare away the customers," Sojiro boomed from behind the bar. There were no other customers in the cafe, but it was more for the principle of the matter.

Ryuji's head disappeared between his shoulders. "If you'd seen what she was doin' to try and seduce me," he repeated, this time his voice a harsh whisper, "You'd also be a stuttering mess!"

"Her sense of style was simply exquisite," Yusuke remarked. "Dark, yet alluring, plain, yet enticing. Truly she was a sensation for the eyes."

"Sakamoto would likely agree with you, Yusuke, though I'm sure his eyes were focused on other things," quipped Akechi.

"Could you guys stop ganging up on me for once?!"

Akechi grinned and brushed a gloved hand against his cheek. "Regardless, it appears that we've all arrived. Should we discuss the matter at hand?"

"Yes, the matter of your date with Niijima-san," Yusuke said, fingers steepled like a church over the table. "It seems you have truly dug yourself into a hole this time, Akira-san. Have you thought about the steps necessary to remedy the situation?"

Akira's eyes fell to the table and the ache in his head returned. He knew he was supposed to be focusing on his date with Makoto, but every time his mind wandered, his thoughts drifted to Tae. As odd as it sounded, he felt a strange connection to her. The conversation in the car had revealed her in a new light.

He almost felt... attracted to her?

"Yo Akira, you there dude?"

Pushing his glasses up his face, he banished such ludicrous thoughts and replied, "I am."

"Alright, then listen up," Ryuji said, his face twisting with a wily grin. "Because I got a plan that can't possibly fail."

* * *

 _ **October 30, 4:25pm  
Shibuya Underground Mall**_

"You know, in some cultures, not being able to breathe is like, sexy."

Makoto struggled under the impossibly tight constraints of the corset. Keeling over a chair, her hand felt at the vacuous space that her stomach was supposed to occupy. "I-I think I'm going to pass on this one…"

"Aw come on, Niiji-san!" Eiko whined, throwing her foot down. "If you show up in this, Akira will _for sure_ fall in love with you!" She pointed at Makoto's reflection in the body length mirror and traced her ridiculously proportioned figure. "Like just look at those curves! You're a total bombshell, Niiji. Who wouldn't want to go on a second date with _that_?"

"I'm not sure I'll even make it to the first date at this rate… So please… help me out of this..."

Eiko groaned. With a roll of her eyes, she unfastened the laces connecting the back of the corset. "Like, your loss."

"Thank you," Makoto wheezed as she was freed of the constraints. She felt like she'd broken at least one or two ribs in the process of trying on that last outfit.

"Anyway, let's keep going!" cheered Eiko. "I have like six more dresses I got from this store for you to try out, plus eight more from the one we just visited!"

Out of fear for her life, Makoto declined, "I appreciate the offer, but I think that's enough for one day."

"What!" Eiko said with a pout. "But we haven't even gotten to the frilly ones..."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But it's nearly five and I still have to get back home before my date. Not to mention, these dresses are quite expensive." She held the price tag of the lung constricting corset in her palm – five digits long, starting with a fat three marked in bold red.

"Aw, but like what's one expensive dress for a lifetime of happiness and laughter with your hubby?"

Makoto opened her mouth to respond. Yet she was moved to silence when she spied one of the dresses Eiko held, the blue one with the mermaid silhouette, high neckline, and basque waist. A long forgotten memory resurfaced, and a smile drew over her face. "Where did you find that dress, Eiko?"

"Huh? This one?" Eiko held it out and superficially examined it at all angles. "Oh, yeah. I like grabbed this one from the clearance aisle. Thought you'd might like want to take a look at it in case you were like strapped for cash or something. But it's not really like high quality. It's kinda like trashy if you ask me."

Makoto glided her hand through the downy fabric of the dress. Under rose-tinted goggles, the dress seemed all the more beautiful. "It's perfect..." she whispered. "It looks just like the one he bought me…"

Even after all these years, the memory was still fresh in her mind. It was a cold December evening. Her father had come home past the dead of night. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was weathered with exhaustion. It was another late shift at the station, just like every other shift. She remembered darting up to him still in her pajamas. He hadn't even gotten through the door before she'd begun her assault.

 _Daddy, why are you home so late? What happened to story time? You promised, daddy, just like last night, and the night before that! Oneesan was right, you never keep your promises!_

 _Snow pea? You're still up? Isn't it past your bedtime? And I know, I'm sorry I was late again. But I promise I'll make it up to-_

 _I'm up because I was waiting for you! Who's keeping you at work so late? Tell me who they are, I'll beat them up for you!_

She remembered him chuckling as he brought forth a paper bag. _Beat up my co-workers? We can't have that, now can we? How about this? Let's make a deal. You don't beat up my coworkers, and I give you this._

 _What is it, daddy?_

 _It's for you, darling._

 _It's a paper bag._

 _Well yes, but the gift is inside the bag. Open it. Go on, go on._

 _Dad, this is…!_

 _I saw it in a window display on the way home, and I thought to myself, wouldn't my sweet little girl look absolutely beautiful in that? I couldn't resist, I just had to buy it for you._

 _Ohmygosh! Thankyouthankyouthankyou daddy! This dress is amazing! I love it!_

 _Haha, that's good! Now try it on! Go, go!_

 _How do I look, daddy? How does it look on me?_

 _It fits you perfectly. You look just like a princess._

 _Yay! I'll be the princess, and you can be my servant!_

 _Of course, your majesty. Anything for you._ He got to one knee and held her soft, tiny hand in his large, callused ones. _Now, before you go to sleep, would you be so kind to grant this poor, humble servant of yours a dance? Just one?_

Makoto's chest swelled recalling the memory. Her father was a good man, a great man. He was always looking out for her sister and her. He'd never compromise himself for justice, and he'd be the first to help those who were less fortunate than him. He was so kind, and welcoming, and generous...

And honest.

A deep hurt struck her. Placing her hand over her chest, she frowned, her eyes pointing down at her feet. How disappointed her father would be if he saw how she'd acted today, she thought. She hadn't been kind, or selfless, or truthful. She had been jealous, and egotistic, and deceitful. She hadn't lived up to that perfect standard he'd set for her every day of his waking life.

That trend had to end now.

"Uh, like, earth to Niiji-san. You there?"

"I think..." Makoto began, her smile returning. "I think that I'll be sticking with this for tonight, Eiko-san. Thank you for all your help."

"What!" Eiko shouted. "But, like, I picked out so many amazing outfits for you, Niiji-san! Are you seriously gonna pick this one? This worn-out, bargain bin, hazmat suit of a dress?!"

Makoto nodded.

"Uggggh." Eiko threw up her arms. "Alright, like, whatever you say, Niiji-san. We'll do it your way. But if you end up like alone and a crazy cat lady, don't blame me!"

Eiko's last words were lost on her. She was absorbed in the dress. Her face gleamed as she held onto it, passed her fingers through the fibers. It was a spitting image of the one her father had bought her all those years ago. She felt like a child again as she passed over that beautiful, blue fabric, that diaphanous silk sewed upon the shoulders, that tapered cut of the skirt.

" _I'm sorry dad,"_ she thought as she hugged the dress tightly to her chest. " _I promise I'll try harder to live by your example. I'll tell Ann where I was and apologize, and I'll stop focusing on other's achievements and focus instead on myself. And tonight..."_ She took in a deep breath. _"Tonight, I'll tell Akira exactly how I feel about him._ "

Yes, she had to be honest, both to herself and others. No more ignoring her feelings, no more lying to her friends about her whereabouts, no more pretending around her crush. She had to be herself.

" _Thank you, dad. If you can hear me… I love you."_

* * *

 _ **October 30, 4:40pm  
Cafe Leblanc**_

"So… Everyone agree on the plan?"

No one responded to Ryuji. With a hesitant look on his face, Akira looked toward Yusuke. He shook his head pessimistically. Then he glanced at Akechi. He only chuckled. Then his eyes fell on Ryuji. He was smiling like a buffoon.

No one wanted to say it was a bad plan, but...

"This plan is awful, Sakamoto," Akechi uttered. "The risks tied to the plan make it so that we exacerbate Akira's dilemma if it fails. And judging by how poor your stealth and reconnaissance skills are, I imagine there is a very high chance that we fail."

Well, so much for no one.

"Hey!" Ryuji shouted, stepping one foot on the table. "If you think it's such a bad plan, why don't you come up with one, ya stupid detective!" Suddenly remembering they were still in _Leblanc_ , he covered his mouth and withdrew to his seat. He only hoped that Boss hadn't witnessed his little display.

But with Ryuji's luck, it was all but assured that he had seen it. Peering at the yellow-haired youth over his glasses, Sojiro leaned over the bar counter and grumbled, "Do you want to continue this conversation outside? I'm more than happy to throw you out if you keep this up."

"N-no," Ryuji whimpered. "I'm sorry, Boss, it won't happen again."

Then, without prompting, Yusuke stood up from his seat. With his arms stuck to his sides, he bowed to his knees and said, "My apologies, Boss. We did not mean to cause such a disturbance within your establishment. Please forgive us, we will soon be on our way."

Sojiro blinked. Scratching the side of his cheek, he murmured, "Ah, well, that's not necessary, Yusuke. There's no need for you to apologize. You've always been a respectful guest." With a deep sigh, he finished, "Just… make sure Ryuji doesn't break anything again. The last thing I need is another insurance bill."

"Of course. Thank you, Boss." With that, he sat back down with the others, a graceful dignity to his motions.

Once Sojiro had turned his attention away from them, Ryuji deflated with an exhale. "Thanks for backin' me up there, Yusuke, I appreciate it. I feel like I've been on thin ice with Boss after since the whole... coffee grinder incident..."

Everyone's eyes glued to the floor.

"Er, let's not relive that memory, Sakamoto," declared Akechi, noticing the sudden tension in the air. "I wasn't even a part of your group back then, and I still shy away at the thought of it."

"Oh right, you were there too..." Ryuji reminisced.

"Yes, I distinctly remember smelling like Hawaiian Kona for almost a week…" He sighed. "Everyone at the station pointed it out, even Sae."

"It was a beautiful coffee grinder, too," Yusuke said, gaze glowing with nostalgia. "Hand made if I recall. Such careful craftsmanship, such delicate curves, such smooth surfaces... truly exquisite in every sense of the word."

Ryuji's face contorted. "Please never talk about anything inanimate that way again, Yusuke."

"Anyway, back to the topic of discussion..." segwayed Akechi. "It appears no one else has an alternative plan of action. Thus, we shall go along with Ryuji's plan."

"Huh?" Ryuji blinked. "Wait, are you bein' serious? None of you have any other ideas?!"

"Given our short time frame and our inability to pick up new supplies, it appears that's the case," admitted Akechi.

"And weren't you bashing my idea like five minutes ago?!"

"Volume, Sakamoto, volume," he sneered.

Ryuji groaned and placed a hand over his forehead. "Alright, well if that's how it's gonna be, make sure you're all on time, okay? I'm not sayin' this is the best plan in the world, but it seems like it's the only one we got, so we have to make do with what we have. You all with me?"

"Of course."

"Certainly."

"..."

"Akira? Yo, Akira!" Ryuji delivered a gentle smack to the back of his half-asleep friend. "Hey man, what's up? You feelin' okay?"

Besides the fact that he'd ingested more drugs than any normal human being should in a less than an hour time frame… "I'm just a little tired," Akira groused, trying to hold his wobbly body still.

"Ah right, I forgot," Ryuji said, snapping his fingers. "You got that physical examination or whatever from Takemi, right? Where's your medicine cabinet?"

"Behind the downstairs bathroom mirror."

"Alright, I'll be right back." Leaping out of the booth, he scampered to the bathroom, his eyes catching with Sojiro's on the way over. When he returned, he had two pills in his palm. "Here you go, it's the pills Takemi was talkin' about."

Akira nodded and took the pills from Ryuji's hand. Tilting his head back, he swallowed them and blenched.

"You should probably be feelin' better in a bit... or whatever," Ryuji said.

"Or whatever," Akechi echoed. "Your confidence is so reassuring."

"You know, with all these insults you're hurling, you're beginning to sound a lot like Mona," Ryuji said. Noticing the odd amount of silence following his last statement, he looked around for the cat in question. "Speaking of which... Where is that fur ball?"

"He said he would meet me back at _Leblanc_ ," Akira said, now joining Ryuji in the search for his feline companion.

"Well I don't see him here. Do you think he's hiding?"

"That seems doubtful," Akechi said. "He wouldn't miss out on an opportunity to humiliate you, Sakamoto. Not that you haven't granted us a wealth of opportunities already."

"You better watch that smarmy mouth of yours!"

"I hope nothing serious has happened to him," Yusuke said. "The last thing we need is another incident to distract us from our primary objective tonight."

"He'll be fine," Akira said. "He knows his way back. I trust him."

The others quietly agreed.

As silence pooled over their table, Ryuji reached for his phone and checked the time. "Ah shit, it's getting late," he said as he slid out of the booth. "I gotta head out and grab some dinner."

"If you are headed out to eat, then I will join you, Ryuji," Yusuke said, also sliding out of his seat. "Thank you for having us over, Akira-san. Good luck on your date tonight. We will do our best to assist you."

"I should be leaving as well." Standing up with them, Akechi smiled down at Akira and parted, "Don't worry, you're in good hands with us. I will make it my personal duty to ensure your date goes swimmingly."

Akira nodded, acknowledging their departure.

And with that, they took their leave. "Later Akira!" Ryuji called back as he headed out the entrance, the bills jingling to signal his departure. "See you tonight!"

"It'll certainly be a night to remember," beamed Akechi as he lifted his hand in farewell.

"Please make sure to drink plenty of water beforehand. I have heard hydrating yourself will make your skin smooth and glossy, like a mermaid's." With a polite bow of his head, he farewelled, "Goodbye, Boss," and closed the door gently shut.

"See you," Sojiro said just as Yusuke disappeared behind the door. Once they'd all left, he surveyed his surroundings. Seeing as there was no one else in the cafe besides him and Akira, he called out, "Hey, kid. Come over here."

Confused but still obedient, Akira walked behind the counter beside Sojiro, looking to him expectantly.

"I couldn't help but overhear you had some lady problems," Sojiro remarked. Reaching underneath the counter, he placed a bag of coffee beans on the counter and continued, "I can't be associated with someone who doesn't know how to talk to women. People might wrongly associate that person with me. So, I'm going to teach you how to make a special blend that will steal any woman's heart, no words required. Make this, and you'll be sure to knock the socks off anyone who drinks it." He smiled and gestured a nod of his head toward the apron hanging by the kitchen sink. "Come on then, let's get to it."

Akira felt his lips spread into a smile. With a quick nod, he put on his apron and waited for further instructions.

"Now, the first step is to determine the right beans to use…"

* * *

 _ **October 30, 5:04pm  
Niijima Residence**_

Makoto rushed into her apartment, a skip in her step. Flicking on the lights, she carried her newly purchased dress into the bathroom and superimposed it over her body. She playfully posed like a runway model, complete with the pursed lips, pushed out thigh, and arched eyebrow. Then, once she'd finished amusing herself, she stripped off her school uniform and slipped into the dress.

She filled into it well, her slim waist and wide hips accentuated by the way the cloth fell down her body. It was revealing in a tasteful way, showing off her collarbones but still covering much of her chest. Maybe it wasn't what Eiko had in mind when she mentioned scandalous clothing, but Makoto loved it all the same.

Just as she was beginning to admire the way she looked in it, she heard a rap of knuckles against the bathroom door.

"Makoto? Are you in there? The front door was open when I got back."

She blinked. The skin on her arms rose into gooseflesh.

What was _she_ doing home so early, Makoto wondered, her brows grooved with worry. In fact, what was she doing home at all? She never came back unless she needed something from the apartment. The last time she'd stayed at home was over two weeks ago, so why was she here now of all times?

Staring at herself in the mirror, Makoto quickly began taking off the dress and changing back into her original clothes. _"I can't let her see me in this,"_ she thought. _"If she does, she'll definitely freak out. I need to talk to her first, then I'll explain everything."_

"Makoto? I'm starting to get worried. Are you okay?"

"Everything is fine, sis!" she called out, undoing the zipper on the back of the dress and lifting it over her shoulders. "Just give me one second!" She hopped in place as she threaded her first, then second leg through her thigh high stockings, then jumped into her plaid skirt. When she'd finished putting on her long sleeved turtleneck and black halter vest, she realized she also had to hide her dress. Balling it up and stuffing it into one of the drawers beneath the sink, she unlocked the bathroom door and zoomed out...

Only to bump straight into her older sister.

"Oomph," the woman grunted. She looked down at the brown head of hair just a few inches beneath her. Glancing into the bathroom, then back down at her younger sister, she cocked an eyebrow. She didn't know what it was, but something seemed off. "What's going on, Makoto?"

Makoto rubbed the back of her head and gazed up. Her body froze under the icy cold stare of her older sibling. "Ah, I'm sorry sis," she apologized, fighting the urge to look away. "What are you doing home? I thought you'd be in the office late again."

Her dark yellow eyes narrowed as she studied Makoto's complexion. "I decided to come home early tonight." Tilting her head sideways, she asked, "How long have you been home?"

She was using her prosecutor's tone, thought Makoto. She always used that tone when she was suspicious of something. "I just got back."

"What time?"

"Five minutes ago."

"Why did you leave the door open?"

"I forgot to close it."

"You've never forgotten to close the front door before."

"I… really had to go to the bathroom. I was going to close the front door after I was finished."

"Is that what you were doing in there for so long?"

"... Yes."

"But I didn't hear the toilet flush when you exited."

"Yes. I didn't go to the bathroom like that… I was just... looking at myself in the mirror."

"For five minutes?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I… I thought I'd try to make myself look nice."

"For who?"

"For myself."

Her eyes remained staid on Makoto's. "Alright," she finally relented. Turning on her heels, she called back to her, "I'm going to take a shower. Call for me if you need anything."

Makoto nodded. "Yes, oneesan."

When her sister had disappeared from sight, Makoto returned to the bathroom to retrieve her dress. Holding it out in front of her, she examined it for any marks or blemishes. She was relieved to find it still in pristine shape. Like the speed of light, she whisked away to her bedroom and hung the dress up in her closet, then returned to the dining room and took a seat. Anxiously she listened to her sibling hum a melody in the shower, the percussion of water striking the shower basin drowning out all other sounds like white noise.

" _Okay, while she's in the shower, think Makoto. What should I say?"_ She nervously drummed her fingers over her shaky knees. _"Should I just be truthful and tell her outright? Or should I try to ease her into it? Either way, she won't like what she hears. I should try to appeal to her sense of sisterhood. 'Haven't you ever wanted to go on a date before?' That might work… unless she never has..."_

The thoughts swirled in her mind for the next five minutes. Then, she heard the squeak of the shower handle. The water stopped. There was a deep, rumbling echo as the heavy shower door slid open, then closed. Two wet feet stepped onto the carpet, and the bathroom door creaked opened. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. The sound of her sister's bare soles against the hardwood floor rang throughout the apartment.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

And then, a few seconds later, she unceremoniously walked through the doorway, a towel covering all the essentials wrapped tightly around her. "What do you want for dinner, Makoto? Takeout? We still have leftovers from yesterday, too."

Still shaken up from the close call earlier, Makoto elected to say the first thing that came to mind. "Um… I don't know. Whatever you think is best, Sae."

There was a saying in Shujin Academy – only two things are without equal: Kobayakawa's double chin, and Sae Niijima's grades. She graduated top of her class, perfect scores in every single course she took. Mathematics, History, English, Chemistry, Biology – to Sae, Shujin was just a stepping stone for far greater heights. At university, she once again ranked at the top of her class, earning her a one-way ticket to any graduate program she chose. And in law school, she was unsurprisingly the valedictorian of her year. She gave a speech about the importance of hard work, being confident, and never giving up. But in truth, no matter how much one studied, they'd never reach to same level as Sae Niijima. In more ways than one, she was a genius.

And if that wasn't enough, she was absolutely gorgeous. Head-turning, eye-opening, drop-dead gorgeous.

Her entrance in a room stopped most conversations outright. An oval face, delicately rounded and feminine, extended to a pointed chin. Wavy silver locks fell down the left side of her visage, reaching just past her elegant shoulders. They, along with her high placed cheekbones and sharpened jawline, framed her graceful countenance like the backdrop of a beautiful painting. Her posture, poised and august, was imperially straight like Makoto's.

Yet even with a face and a figure that curved in all the right places, men were always drawn to one particular part of her body – her piercing, dark yellow eyes.

Sae's entire life history – all her hardships, turmoils, and inner conflicts – was written upon that gaze. Severe and hawkish like a bird of prey's, it could practically cut steel. Rumor was that if you stared into it long enough, you'd turn to stone.

While she could not vouch for such outrageous claims, Makoto was no stranger to being judged by that icy cold stare. As a child, she remembered shrinking in fright whenever Sae glared at her. It almost become second nature growing up. Even now as a budding teenager, she retracted whenever Sae looked her way, frightful of that severe gaze she'd grown up with.

She wondered if she'd ever grow out of it.

"Alright, leftovers it is," Sae said as she squatted down and inspected the inside of the fridge. "So, how was school?"

It'd been so long since Makoto had small talk with her sister that she almost forgot how to do so. "It went well," she replied after a brief pause. "I got back my English essay today."

"Oh? How did you do?"

"I got a 98."

"What was the highest grade?"

"100."

"Who got it?"

"Ann Takamki."

"Takamki?" Sae glanced over her shoulder. "Isn't she a second year?"

"Yes. She's taking an accelerated English curriculum. Remember, I told you last week?"

"I remember. I'm just surprised that she scored higher than you."

"Well, one of her parents is from America."

"That's still no excuse. She's younger than you, Makoto. You need to be careful and study harder, you can't let her get higher marks than you."

"You're making it sound like I should be competing with her."

"You are, and you should be. You're competing with everyone at that school."

"But she's my friend."

"Friend or not, you need to look out for yourself. The only way you'll succeed in this world is if you're on top." Standing upright, Sae closed the fridge door with a bump of her hip, grabbed two pairs of identical silverware from off the kitchen counter, and sat down next to her younger sister. "It's not an easy thing to hear, but it's a lesson you'll have to learn one of these days. No one's going to throw you a bone, no one's going to help you up when you fall. The only person you can count on is yourself."

Makoto sighed. "Okay, sis. I'll try harder."

Sae's complexion mellowed as she slid one of the plates over to Makoto. "You know I'm only giving you a hard time because I care about you, right? I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did. And if someone had told me these things when I was younger, like I am with you, maybe I wouldn't have." She undid the Saran wrap covering the two dishes and set Makoto's utensils for her. "Anyway, enough of that. Let's eat."

"Cold rice and chicken, I can hardly wait," Makoto murmured.

"Hey," smiled Sae. "I asked if you wanted to order take out, and you didn't say anything. We're both suffering for your mistake."

Hearing her sister's playful tone brought a smile to Makoto's face. It'd been so long since they'd sat down and actually shared a meal together. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to eat together as a family.

A family…

It pained her to have to tell Sae about her date when this was the first time she'd even seen her in the past three days. That was just the nature of her job, she thought. She doesn't have time for anyone, not even herself. There's no way she could make time for me.

"So," Makoto began. "How was your day? Did you have a lot of work?" She hoped some light conversation would help soften the blow.

Sae exhaled and set aside her fork. "It was... stressful." There wasn't much more she could divulge to her younger sister – the more specific details regarding the Phantom Thieves case were top secret, after all.

"How so?"

"The task I've been assigned hasn't made much headway. My director is starting to get impatient. He wants results, and soon."

"I'm sorry, sis," Makoto replied. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Unless you know the identities of the Phantom Thieves, no," Sae beamed. "But thank you, Makoto. I appreciate the sentiment."

If only she knew just how involved Makoto was.

"Have you tried asking your director to give you less work?" she asked.

Sae pursed her lips. "Why would I do that?"

"Well, you always come home so late and leave so early. I hardly ever see you at home."

"That's just the way things are, Makoto. If I want to keep my job, I need to work twice, if not three times as hard, as my peers."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a woman."

Makoto remained silent.

"No one will tell you this, Makoto," Sae continued, "But the world is run by men. They control the law enforcement agencies, the big corporations, the government. If you want to succeed in a male dominated society, you need to be willing to sacrifice everything to come out on top. Do you understand?"

Makoto didn't want to agree, but she also didn't want to start an argument."I think so…" she finally replied, her voice full of hesitation.

Sae's gaze lingered for a moment longer before returning to her dinner. Finishing her meal, she glanced at Makoto's plate and noted, "You haven't touched your dinner at all. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

Makoto blinked, caught off guard by her sister's question. "Huh? Oh… um. Yes. I'm fine, sis, really."

She leaned forward and touched her forehead to Makoto's. "Hm. You don't seem to have a fever."

"I'm okay," Makoto reiterated. "I'm just not hungry, that's all."

"Did you eat anything beforehand?" Sae asked. That accusatory tone of hers had returned.

"No."

"Then why aren't you hungry?"

"I don't know, I'm just… I'm just not."

"Do you not like the food?"

"No, it's not that. It's just… Like I said, I'm not hungry."

Sae's glare thinned. "You've been acting strange ever since I got back, Makoto. First you forget to close the front door, then you lock yourself in the bathroom, and now you're telling me you're not hungry? What's going on?"

Makoto bit down hard on her bottom lip. There was no fooling Sae any longer. She knew her sister had caught onto her scheme. The way her eyes narrowed, the way she piled on pieces of evidence... It was like she was in the courtroom digging for a guilty verdict. And in this case, it was Makoto's she was after.

"Tell me the truth, Makoto. What is it that's othering you?"

The truth…

"Oneesan…" Makoto began, her shoulders dropping.

"Yes?"

"I…"

"What is it, Makoto? Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I... have a date tonight."

No sooner than the words left her mouth did the apartment fall into complete silence.

"... You're going on a date tonight?"

"... Yes."

"With who?"

"A friend… from school."

"And why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I didn't think you'd be home tonight... I didn't think you'd care if I-"

"You just told me how another girl in your English class is scoring higher than you on her essays. And don't you have two quizzes later this week that you need to study for?" Sae pinched her brows together and sighed. "We've talked about this over and over, Makoto. Your grades are your primary focus. You can't be goofing off or wasting time like other kids your age. If you don't build a strong foundation for your future, it'll come crashing down."

"I know," replied Makoto. "I know my grades are really important, but-"

"But you still decided to schedule a date knowing full well that it'd interfere with your studying? I'm sorry Makoto, but I won't allow it."

"A… allow it?" Makoto restated, her voice rising in disbelief. "Oneesan, that's not fair. You can't just-"

"I've already decided. You're going to stay in tonight and study for your quizzes."

"But I've already studied! And I finished all my homework, and I've started-"

"Your grades have dropped ever since you started hanging out with those kids at _Leblanc_ ," Sae said.

Makoto's face widened with shock. "That's…"

"Don't think I don't know what you've been up to. Even if I'm not always around, I know what you've been doing."

 _"Not everything_ ," Makoto considered saying behind gritted teeth, but thought better of it.

Sae continued, "I allowed you to spend time with them because I thought it'd be good for you to make more friends, but I see now that it was a mistake. They're distracting you from your studies."

"They aren't distracting me, sis!" Makoto pleaded. "They're the reason why I've been more focused on my future than ever."

"Oh? If that's the case, just why have your grades fallen so much?"

Makoto couldn't tell her it was because of her duties as a Phantom Thief. "I… that's…"

"Anyway, I've already made my decision. You aren't going out tonight. Period."

"But I already bought a dress for my date!" Makoto's eyes suddenly shot open. She immediately covered her mouth in the hopes that she could keep those last words from being heard.

But the scathing look on Sae's face proved it was fruitless. "You bought a dress?"

"Sis, I know you told me to only spend money on necessities like food," Makoto began. "And I'm really sorry that I didn't tell you about the dress earlier. But I'd been saving up money for a while now, and I haven't bought anything else, and I just… it was just so…"

"Where's the dress, Makoto?" Sae's voice was sharp and straight to the point.

"It's… it's in my closet."

"Bring it out."

"Sae, please, it's just like the-"

"Bring. It. Out."

Makoto recoiled. Wordlessly, she capitulated to her older sister's command. She returned to her room and picked out the blue dress she'd hung up only minutes ago. Her brows furrowed as she gazed upon its beautiful, satin blue silk.

 _How do I look, daddy? How does it look on me?_

 _It fits you perfectly. You look just like a princess._

"Makoto? Where are you?"

Her sister's booming voice broke her memory. Slowly, Makoto trudged back into the dining room, the dress held in a clump up to her chest. She saw Sae sitting down with her hand extended, as if she were expecting Makoto to simply give the dress up. "Sis, please," she begged. "It's just like the one dad bought for me when I was a kid. Please don't make me return it."

Sae's straightened index finger crooked twice in quick succession. "Give it to me."

Seeing no other option, Makoto reluctantly handed it over.

As soon as the dress was within her reach, Sae snatched it within her clutches. Holding it from the top, she allowed gravity to unravel it, the pleated skirt dangling only inches above the ground.

Inwardly, Makoto braced herself for a scolding. She dropped her chin and stared at her curled toes. However, she couldn't have predicted the next words that came out of her sister's mouth:

"It's beautiful."

Lifting her gaze, she saw that Sae's lips had drawn into a broad smile.

"It really does look just like the one dad bought for you."

Makoto remained silent as her sister admired her dress, her heart pounding in her dry throat. "Sae…"

Sae stood up, the dress tucked underneath her arm. "I know how much you want to go on this date, Makoto," she started. "But you have to understand where I'm coming from. You can't just do whatever you want whenever you want, you need to prioritize your future. I won't return the dress, but I am going to hold onto it until your grades improve and you've learned to respect the rules I've put on this household."

Just as she'd gotten her hopes up, the dream came crashing back down the reality. The magical, candlelit night Makoto envisioned with Akira had suddenly shattered before her, and all that was left was her books, her study materials, and her hand-written flashcards. "But Sae…" she breathed weakly, taken aback by her cold reply.

"I'm not angry at you for spending your allowance – the allowance _I_ gave you – on the dress," Sae said, drowning out Makoto's whisper. "But if you do it again without letting me know, we're going to have a serious talk."

"Sae, could you listen to me for just…"

"Clean the dishes and go study. I'll be staying home tonight, so once you're finished, I'll quiz you on the material you've covered."

"This date is really important to me, and…"

"If you've finished studying everything for the quiz, start reading the next chapter. And take good notes."

"Please Sae, I…"

"Also, remember to show all your work when you solve a problem. It's just as important to show your approach to a question as it is to get the right..."

There was no getting through to Sae. She didn't even see her as a person, just a burden to give orders. Makoto, finish your homework. Makoto, study. Makoto, study more. Makoto, study even _more_. Clean the apartment. Make dinner. Sorry, I won't be home tonight. You're on your own again. Don't forget to pick up my suit from the dry cleaners. Don't forget to study. Work on your project. Read ahead of the class notes. Work harder. Work better. _Be better._

She was _sick_ of it.

"Oh, and one more thing…"

Unable to contain herself any longer, Makoto's voice broke out in a cry of anguish.

"Sae!"

Sae's yellow eyes grew large with shock.

Makoto balled her hands into tight fists, her knuckles blanching from the sheer pressure she applied. "You haven't listened to a word I've said all night, Sae," Makoto growled, trying to maintain her composure. Swallowing the knot in her windpipe, she continued, "This date is really, really important to me. I'm sorry that I haven't lived up to your standards, and I'm sorry that I bought the dress without telling you. But could you please, for just one night, let me go out on this date? It means a lot to me, and I don't know if I'll ever get another chance."

The once authoritative tone Sae held soured like fermented fruit in her mouth, and that cold gaze she was so renowned for returned in full. "I don't know what's gotten into you Makoto, but I've already told you you're not going out on a date. That's final. Now clean up the dining room. I'm going to change." Just as she was about to turn around, she heard Makoto's voice fire back at her.

"That's not fair!"

Sae's scowl bored two holes in her younger sister's forehead. "Excuse me?"

There it was. That cold glare of hers. God, Makoto hated it. That stupid, condescending, holier-than-thou glare. It was meant to make her feel inferior, lesser. And it usually did. But right now, all it did was make her furious. "I've never asked anything from you, Sae," Makoto said, the anger in her voice bubbling. "I've always come home on time, finished my work, studied, and taken care of myself and the apartment while you were away. Every single day for the past three years, I've followed every single order you gave me."

"Makoto, listen to me-"

"No, you listen," Makoto interrupted. "This is the first time I've ever asked you to go out. And I know how much you've done for me, and I'll always be grateful for everything you've given me, but I think it's completely unfair that I can't go out when I've already finished everything else for tonight."

"If you were truly grateful, you'd drop this conversation right now and go to your room."

"And what is with you treating me like a child all the time?"

"Makoto."

"Telling me to go to my room, scolding me, restricting where I can go and when."

"Makoto."

"I don't know who you think you are, but you're my sister, Sae, not my mom!"

Sae's eyelid twitched. "I never wanted to be your mother, Makoto," Sae barked. "It's a role I had to take because you're such a _burden_."

"Stop calling me a burden," Makoto flared back. "I'm so tired of hearing you say how useless I am. All you do is talk about how I can't do anything right, how I'm such a hassle to keep around. What kind of an older sister says those kinds of things to her younger sibling?"

"The kind that's had to suffer through far worse than you've ever had to, Makoto. You've lived such a cushy life, you've always had your food and the roof over your head paid for. Do you know why? Because I've had to slave away at my job to support this family. When I was your age, I had to work every single day to keep us afloat. With all those other bills he had to pay, dad could barely make enough money to pay for rent and electricity."

Her fists balled even tighter. "Don't bring dad into this," Makoto seethed, her head throbbing as she felt her heartbeat in every vein of her body. "Don't you dare."

"He could barely take care of himself, let alone the two of us. I had to go to a lower ranked university and work my way up from there because he couldn't afford to pay for the better ones."

"Stop it, Sae."

"Maybe if he'd made more money, he would have been able to pay for mom's treatment, too."

"Sae!"

"And then, right when things finally started returning to normal, he got himself killed for his idiotic sense of justice. No goodbye, no I'm sorry, no I love you. He just stepped outside one day and died. I'll never forgive him for that, for leaving us by ourselves. I'll never forgive what he did."

"That's because you never loved him!"

The hairs on Sae's head stood on end.

She snapped.

A flash of white hot anger boiled in Sae's scalding gaze, and a loud _smack_ reverberated off the walls of the apartment. When she'd come to, she felt a stinging sensation in her palm. She looked down at Makoto.

A red imprint of her hand was etched across her left cheek.

A terrible sense of regret washed over her. But she couldn't back down and show weakness now that she'd gone so far. Flaring her nostrils, Sae snarled, "Don't you ever say I didn't love him. I loved him more than you'll _ever_ know. I was there for him when mom passed. I was there for him when we almost lost our house. Everything I've done, I did for him and this family!"

Pained tears welled in the Makoto's eyes, her face still turned away from the impact of Sae's slap. Her vision blurred and unblurred as one, two, then three tears fell from that austere, crimson gaze. When Sae had finally finished speaking, she shot her a menacing glower. It burned fiery like a conflagration, hot enough to melt Sae's icy gaze.

Then, she opened her mouth to speak. And the words she spoke were like daggers in Sae's heart.

"Everything you've done, you've done for _yourself_."

Without another word, Makoto stormed off. Even if it hurt, even if it killed her on the inside, she wouldn't give Sae the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

The gravity of the situation only hit Sae a minute later, after the adrenaline had left her system. The remorse she felt earlier gathered on her countenance, and she slammed her fist against the wall. _"Dammit,"_ she chastised, palming a hand over her face. _"Goddammit."_

Before she could chase after Makoto, she heard an abrupt buzz come from the table. Spinning around, she noticed it was her phone vibrating. Incoming call. She checked the caller I.D. – the director of the SIU? A pained look crossed her complexion as she contemplated between answering the phone and comforting her sister.

She looked to Makoto's room, then her phone, back to Makoto's room, then back to her phone.

She sighed.

"Prosecutor Niijima here. What's the issue?"

Makoto stewed in her room, her face and arms buried into her pillow. She hated crying, it always made her feel so weak and immature. Wiping away the last remnants of a tear from the corners of her eye, she violently shook her head and sat up in her bed. _"No. No more wallowing,"_ she thought, punching her fist into the mattress. _"You need to make a decision Makoto. Are you going to keep living in Sae's shadow… Or are you going to finally start living for herself?"_

 _It fits you perfectly. You look just like a princess._

Her expression suddenly drew resolute. With newfound vigor, she hopped off her bed steeled her will. She was going on this date, permission or not.

The only problems with that plan were getting past Sae and finding a new dress.

Peeking her head out the door, she caught sight of Sae on the phone. She was pacing back and forth, her gaze focused on the floor. Perfect. That took care of the first problem. But there was still the matter of finding a new dress. Pondering her next move, Makoto suddenly had a eureka moment.

While Sae was still distracted, Makoto surreptitiously tiptoed across the hall and snuck into her room. Then, without making so much as a sound, she rummaged through her wardrobe in the hopes of finding a dress that would fit her.

No, no, no.

Wait.

She stopped at a petite red dress. It had a tight sheath silhouette and a strapless, sweetheart neckline. Ankle length and glossy as the dew before dawn, it fit her to a tee. Makoto's eyes glinted as she held it in her hands. This was perfect, she thought. With this dress, she could still go on her date with Akira and…

Her thoughts stopped dead in their tracks. A hollowness filled the cavity of her chest as she stared down at the elegant gown. What happened to being honest, Makoto thought. What happened to no more lying? Were all those promises she made earlier at the mall for nothing? Her father would be disappointed if he saw her now. For a moment, she considered putting back the dress, returning to her room, and simply staying at home like Sae wanted her to…

But in the last moment, she decided against it. Whether it was weakness of will or resoluteness of her desire to rebel, she could not say. Snatching the dress from the hanger, Makoto folded it under her arm and made her way out of the room.

" _I'm sorry dad. I'm going to have to disappoint you just a little bit longer. Please, forgive me."_

While Sae's back was turned from the front door, Makoto scurried over to it. Then, quieter than a mouse, she turned the handle, slunk through the crack, and stole away into the night.

And just like that, she was gone.

By the time Sae had finished with her call, it was ten minutes too late. After setting aside her phone and changing out of her towel, she walked over to Makoto's room and waited just outside. It was her hope that her younger sibling would be responsive enough to allow her to patch things up. However, given what had just happened, she understood if she didn't want to talk to her for the rest of the night. Or perhaps even longer.

"Makoto? Makoto, can we talk?" Sae asked, knocking gently on her door. There was no response. "I'm… sorry, Makoto. I wasn't thinking straight. I shouldn't have done what I did, it was completely out of line. Can I please come in so we can talk?" Another knock.

Again, no response.

With a heavy conscience, Sae slipped away. "Okay. I understand. If you need me, I'll be in the living room."

Then, just as she was about to settle down on the couch, a sound came from the front door.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Sae almost jumped on the spot. Staring at the origin of the noise, she exclaimed, "Hello? Who is it?" But there was no reply. A grave chill ran down her spine, and for a moment, she felt an ominous threat looming over her. Moving through the kitchen in gradual steps, she grabbed one of the stainless steel knives and made her way to the door. She wasn't going to take any chances.

The scratching only continued, growing louder and more frenzied the closer she came. And then, when she'd finally arrived, it stopped completely. Her heart pounding, Sae peeped through the spyhole to see who it was…

But there was no one there. Feeling her pulse in the back of her neck, she breathed in once, then twice, then, without hesitation, turned the doorknob and...!

No one was there.

She looked left down the hall, no one.

She looked right down the hall, no one.

And then, perhaps out of instinct, she looked down.

And just like that, she was face to face with the creature. A pelt of dark, black fur. A pair of slitted, beady blue eyes. A set of finely sharpened teeth. A look of surprise fell over her visage as she immediately recognized what it was.

Drawing in a deep breath, the creature bared its fangs. It stepped forward and, with wide open eyes and mouth, bellowed its high-pitched, primalistic roar.

"Meow!"

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello friends! Thanks for reading this week's chapter, and thanks for all the follows, favorites, views, and reviews!

This chapter was a lot longer than I expected. When I started writing this chapter, I had in mind to keep it shorter than the previous ones. However, as I started planning out the the scene between Makoto and Sae, I was quickly absorbed into it. After just an hour and a half of free writing, I realized that the scene had extended far longer than I could have anticipated. Instead of cutting it out and putting it in another chapter for next week, though, I decided to keep it in. It took a long time to edit, and it was certainly the hardest part of the chapter to flush out! Still, it was incredibly fun to write, and I am happy with how it turned out.

When I first played through _Persona 5_ , I was surprised that the relationship between Makoto and Sae was not further fleshed out. I felt that there could have been greater development between the two, especially given that one of the Palaces in the game was Sae's. In the final scene of this chapter, I tried my best to recreate how I imagined a fight between the two sisters would pan out. Both Sae and Makoto love each other immensely, but they have very different views on their father and the world. Where the former is jaded by the dog-eat-dog society she was forced to grow up in, the latter is hopeful and holds onto her father's sentiment that deep down, people are inherently good. It was definitely a rollercoaster to write, and I had to completely edit the dialogue several times in order to faithfully capture how I believed they would act. Again, it was a lot of writing, but it was really fun and I enjoyed it very much.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Take care, and have a great week!

Until next week, friends.

 **NEXT TIME:** hermit i


	6. day two - hermit i

.

.

.

 **hermit i**

* * *

 ** _October 30, 5:37pm  
?_**

Futaba Sakura hadn't slept in two years.

Every night ran like hellish clockwork. She closed her eyes, slowed her breath, and waited for darkness to claim her. That was when the shadows came.

" _Wakaba would still be alive if it weren't for you!"_

" _Useless, absolutely useless."_

" _Why are you such a burden? Why can't you do anything right?"_

The shadows were formless and cruel yet carried voices that she recognized, voices of people who had hurt her, who had wronged her. Futaba was powerless to silence them. Her voice caught in her throat and no matter how hard she screamed it never materialized. Her only option was to silently endure their abuse.

" _It should have been you who died."_

" _You killed her! Murderer! Murder!"_

" _The world would be better off without you."_

An indefinite amount of time passed, and the shadows and their voices voices vanished. But her nightmare wasn't over. In their place arrived a soft, melodic humming. A drowsy terror stole through Futaba's veins when she heard it. Soft and sweet like a mother's lullaby, it coaxed her, tempted her to pursue it. She did so mindlessly. In a frightened stupor, she stumbled forward to uncover the origin of that enticing voice, the one that touched to the deepest recesses of her psyche.

Yet as she drew closer to the voice, it grew more sinister. The sing-songy timbre it held gradually became splintered and hysterical. As the air around her permeated with lethal intent, the humming stopped. She too stopped in her tracks. A pit dark as pitch laid before her. But it was not empty. She could hear something making sounds from within it.

Something alive.

Futaba inched toward the pit in short, measured steps. The something she heard earlier grew louder. It was breathing. Strained and disjointed, it irregularly peaked and plummeted in volume. It was low and animalistic. And it was intimate. It called to her oldest childhood memories, the ones of her playing in the sandbox, building Lego towers, walking through the park.

When she was upon the precipice of the pit, she leaned forward. She spied something in that abyss, but it was not what she expected. A figure coated in viscous, reflective black liquid wavered deliriously back and forth, its head down and its arms hanging loosely at its sides. It was amorphous and darker than slate, and every muscle in her body screamed at her to flee when she saw it.

Yet Futaba couldn't avert her gaze. She stared down at that shapeless monstrosity in awe and wonder. It kept swaying side to side like a tower of cards about to topple. But it never collapsed on itself, it just kept swaying. Mesmerized by its oscillation, she leaned forward, her head hanging just over the pit. She wanted to get a closer look at it. She needed to get a closer look.

As if hearing her desires, the figure locked into place and stared up at her. The liquid surrounding its face began peeling away. A chill seeped into every muscle of Futaba's body and she froze. Underneath that murky veneer revealed a complexion she recognized all too well. It was her mother, Wakaba Isshiki. A spitting image of her standing at the bottom of the pit, covered in a deliquesced tar. Only… its eyes were pushed in and glassy with cataracts, its skin was full of pussing red sores, and its smile…

Oh God, the smile. That ravenous, razor like smile. It was wide, and pink, and the lips wrinkled back from the gums. Deranged, sadistic, _starving_. It was starving and it needed to eat. And there was nothing else besides Futaba. It needed to eat, and there was nothing else besides Futaba.

" _I'm hungry, Futaba. I'm so, so hungry."_

And then it started to climb out of the pit.

* * *

 ** _October 30, 5:37pm  
_** ** _Sojiro Sakura's Residence_**

There were no fluttering lashes or sunlight streaming through the blinds to rouse her from her sleep. It was always cold sweat, trembling hands, and pounding blood.

Futaba's body jerked upright as she was thrust from her slumber. Hunched forward and choking for air, she gripped her chest to soothe her spasming heart. _"It felt so real this time,"_ she thought, sweat dripping from her brow. _"It always feels so real."_ Even when she closed her eyes now, she saw her mother's distorted, bloodied face, as if the image was inscribed into the backs of her lids. Voice shaky, she curled her knees into her chest and began counting out loud. "One… two… three…"

Once her breathing settled, she reached for the glass of flat, room temperature cola sitting on her nightstand and guzzled it down with breakneck efficiency. Then, she beat a fist over her sternum and released a long, satisfied burp. It helped her calm down, crude acts like that. It reminded her that she was living. Or, at least, that she was still alive. And when the nightmares came as frequently as they did, she needed something to ground her.

But there was no point dwelling on it now. With or without her, the day would march on. The only thing she could do was march forward with it.

Hopping out of bed, Futaba stretched her arms in an arc and yawned. As she slipped into her everyday clothes — a black tank top, off shoulder white t-shirt, tiny black shorts, and oversized olive green jacket — her stomach suddenly growled.

A surprised blink. Now that she thought about it, when was the last time she ate? She mentally counted the hours. Eighteen, nineteen… twenty? Twenty hours, she concluded. Her **Hunger** must have been dangerously high. Luckily for her, there was a cafe down the street that could remedy the problem.

" _Looks like it's time to pay Sojiro a visit!"_

* * *

 ** _October 30, 5:42pm  
_** ** _Yongen-Jaya Backstreets_**

The journey to the cafe was fraught with peril, but not because of environmental hazards or concealed threats. It was because of other people. Yongen-Jaya was positively teeming with them. Some came alone, some came with friends. All of them scared her to pieces.

"Mommy, can I have headphones like hers? They look so cool!" said a child as he tugged his mother's sleeve. His covetous eyes were focused on Futaba's red headset.

Futaba's heart skipped a beat. With her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets, head caught between her shoulders, and gaze fixated on the ground, she thought her **Stealth** was high enough to be ignored. Casting a short glance at the child, then at his mother, she swallowed hard. The tension in her throat magnified to the point that she felt like she was suffocating. _"Please don't talk to me. Please don't talk to me."_

The mother thoroughly studied Futaba with a narrowed **Leer** , lowering her **Defense**. Then, snorting haughtily out her nostrils, she said, "Those tacky things? I can buy you so much better, sweetie. Now come along, we're going to be late for dinner." Tugging her son's arm, she led him away from Futaba, her high heeled stilettos clacking with each deliberate step.

Futaba's body unwound as they departed. _"That was a close one,"_ she thought, her shoulders dropping. _"I thought they might've actually talked to me."_ Shaking off the potential confrontation with a sharp exhale, she steeled her nerves and continued wading through the Yongen-Jaya streets, paying extra care to avoid attracting others' attentions.

Thankfully, no one else seemed interested in talking to her. They plodded along in rigid uniformity, allowing her to make her way to the cafe without further incident.

* * *

 ** _October 30, 5:44pm  
_** ** _Cafe Leblanc_**

 _Cafe Leblanc_ was Yongen-Jaya's crown jewel. Known for its coffee and curry, it was also the only place besides Sojiro's house where Futaba felt safe. Perhaps it was because Sojiro, her guardian, also owned _Leblanc_.

Or perhaps it was because the cafe reminded Futaba of her mother. All her recollections of Wakaba were laden with the rich fragrances of Blue Mountain coffee and East Asian spices, the same fragrances that wafted through _Leblanc_. Walking through the cafe's rustic teak door and being bombarded by those familiar smells felt just like coming home for dinner after a long day of school. It brought her back to better days, when the sunrise always danced in her eyes and the only worry in the world was waking up in time to catch Saturday morning cartoons.

But those days died with her mother, and like all dead things, there was no bringing them back.

Standing at the front entrance, a peculiar noise caught her attention. It was a loud, continuous buzzing whirring from inside the cafe. Her head tilted curiously. _"Is that the coffee grinder?"_ she wondered, holding her chin. _"Does that mean Sojiro actually has customers today? What a twist!"_

Cracking the front door one eye's width, she slyly peered in. Her hunch was half correct. Sojiro and Akira were behind the counter busily brewing a cappuccino. " _Well, if it's just them,"_ she thought, _"I'm sure they won't mind making me dinner!"_ She grasped the door handle and motioned to turn it...

… But just as she was about to step inside, a **Nasty Thought** entered her mind. _"... Or, this could be the perfect chance for me to get back at Akira. After all, this is the one place he won't expect me to sneak up on him. Plus, the coffee grinder is so loud, he won't even notice me enter. He's a sitting duck!"_

When Futaba left the sanctuary of her room for the first time after her heart was stolen, Akira thought he would introduce himself with an innocent prank. It was a simple, around the corner 'Boo!' while she was walking to the bathroom. Nothing too frightening, just a way to expose her to his sense of humor. _"Sometimes,"_ he explained, _"Good friends play practical jokes on each other. It helps the two of them bond. Now if you could stop trying to headbutt me for one second and let me apologize for scaring you…"_

After that, the two took turns pranking one another in order to, in Futaba's words, "strengthen their bond." For every time Akira harmlessly taped a piece of paper under Futaba's mouse, Futaba diabolically added tabasco to Akira's eyedrops. And since Akira had pranked her yesterday — rubber snakes in the bathtub, a classic — it was Futaba's turn to exact a swift and prejudiced revenge.

" _Sojiro hides the ghost peppers for his special, super spicy curry dish in the cabinet just beside the fridge. I wonder how Akira would feel having a cup of coffee served_ ** _Extra Hot_** Her lips spread into a puckish smile and she released a pointed, witch-like cackle. _"I'll_ ** _Zerg Rush_** _him so fast, he won't even see me coming! Kekeke!"_

With mischief now on the mind, Futaba slowly reopened the door to the cafe, so slowly that the bell attached to it did not even jingle. _"Player Three has entered the game,"_ she delighted, the path to her retribution straightforward. She spied Sojiro and Akira still brewing coffee with her **Analytical Vision**. They were occupied with brewing and completely unsuspecting of the danger that was about to befall them.

"Remember to monitor the temperature," Sojiro said. "Keep it around ninety-six. If it fluctuates more than two degrees, it loses its flavor."

Like a lion stalking its prey, Futaba crouched low to the ground. Her **Muffled Movement** allowed her to sneak right up behind Akira without being noticed. _"And now, part one of my master plan! The diversion!"_ Gradually rising to full length, she took in a deep, chest rising breath. Her puffed out cheeks almost burst as she cried a single word:

"Boo!"

The coffee grinder squeaked. Akira, who had been busily turning it up until that moment, jolted so violently from her shout that he almost knocked over a porcelain cup at his side. Sojiro channeled his inner karate master and threw up a pair of knifehands. When they both realized there was no threat, they gathered their bearings and synchronously turned to face her.

Putting on her most innocent face, Futaba offered a wide, ear-to-ear smile and stood on the tips of her toes. "Hehe, got you!" she tweeted, hands held loosely behind her back. "I heard you liked surprises, so I decided I'd give you one of my own! Pretty thoughtful of me, I know." With a cute curtsy, she bounced on the soles of her feet and asked, "So, how was I? Did I scare you? Huh? Were you scared?"

Realizing it was only Futaba, Sojiro let out a heavy sigh of relief and relaxed his stance. "Ah, Futaba. It's nice to see you come by. I didn't even hear you enter."

"That's because I'm as quiet as a cat. Maybe even quieter."

If the cat she was referring to was Morgana, Akira thought, she certainly had a case.

Before she could open her mouth to continue speaking, the enchanting aroma of freshly ground coffee beans overpowered her. She breathed it in and purred, "Mmm. What smells so good? Have you been experimenting on a new blend, Sojiro?"

"Actually," Sojiro said, patting Akira on the back and smiling proudly. "It was Akira who brewed the last batch. He's become pretty handy in the kitchen, this one."

Futaba cocked her head puzzledly. "Woah, seriously? I could've sworn that was your coffee I was smelling." Turning to face Akira, she said, "Your **Brewing** level must be super high now."

The sides of Akira's lips tugged ever-so-slightly as he scratched the side of his nose. "The credit should go to Sojiro. He's a great teacher."

"Right, I bet you've been gaining a ton of **EXP** from working as a barista." Putting a finger to the side of her her mouth, she asked, "How much is Sojiro paying you, anyway?"

Sojiro's eyes widened. Quickly turning the conversation, he coughed, "Ahem. So, are you hungry, Futaba? I know you went to bed late last night and didn't wake up for lunch."

Futaba vigorously nodded her head, her bright orange hair whipping in her face. "Yup, I'm starving!" she exclaimed, puffing out her cheeks in feigned irritation. "Now feed me, Sojiro!"

Sojiro chuckled and smoothed a hand over his forehead. "Heh. Okay, okay, settle down. I'll get right to-"

An abrupt ringing cut his sentence short. "Sorry, let me take this first," he said. Reaching underneath his apron, Sojiro pried his cellphone out of his pants, flipped it open, and curtly answered, "Whoever this is, you're calling at a bad time. I'm abou-..." A pause, followed by a gradual shift in his tone. "Yes. Yes, this is he. Who's calling? Hm. Okay. I see. Okay. Okay, I'll be over right away." Closing the phone and tucking it back into his pocket, he tightened his jaw, his expression suddenly severe. He ground his teeth behind creased lips and stared aimlessly over Futaba's shoulder.

"What's wrong, Sojiro?" Futaba asked, her face scrunching with worry. "Is something the matter? Can I help?"

Hearing her voice brought his vision back into focus. That somber expression once clouding his countenance disappeared, replaced by a lackluster smile. "Hm? Oh no, that was just a business call. I'm fine. Thank you though, Futaba."

She stared at him dubiously. His voice wasn't convincing in the slightest. "Really?"

He nodded, "Yes, really." Then, after a short silence, he closed, "I'm sorry, but I'm going to head out for a bit. There's something I need to take care of." Hurrying toward the exit, Sojiro picked his trilby off the coat rack and donned a brown trench coat. "Akira, I need you to look after the cafe while I'm gone," he said, slipping one of his arms through a coat sleeve and walking back to the counter to fetch his wallet. "Make dinner for Futaba too. I have some leftover curry in the fridge, so all you have to do is heat it up. "

"Oh, Sojiro! Is there anything I can do to help too?" Futaba inquired, following him as he traipsed about the cafe.

"You can help by making sure to eat your dinner and staying inside."

She frowned in disappointment. "Are you sure that's all?"

"I'm sure." Reaching for the door, he set his trilby square on his head and tilted the brim in parting. "Be safe you two. I'll be back as soon as I can. Remember, stay indoors and don't cause any trouble. Okay? And Akira, don't forget to wash the dishes too."

Akira complied with a nod. Futaba was less conciliatory but eventually obliged with a half-hearted nod of her own.

"Good. Take care of yourselves, I'll see you soon." Putting one foot out the door, he hesitated for a short second before glancing back inside. "Also, if Ryuji comes back before I do…" he said to Akira, his sentence finishing with a breathy exhale. "... Just don't let him near the coffee grinder." Once he'd seen Akira nod again, he gestured a final tip of his hat and exited the cafe, the bell tingling hollowly after him.

Immediately after Sojiro left, Futaba let out an exasperated sigh. She slumped into one of the chairs by the bar and dangled her head over the back. Low and throaty, she groaned from the bottom of her gut, "Uggggggghh."

Akira grinned at her exaggerated reaction. He sat down next to her and plainly asked, "What's wrong, Futaba?" Craning his neck, he supported his chin under the flat of his palm and raised a brow inquisitively.

Like a vampire rising from its coffin, she snapped upright and shot Akira her most threatening **Evil Eye**. He nonchalantly shrugged it off. _"Of course, how could I have forgotten he was resistant to_ ** _Curse_** _attacks!"_ she mentally scolded an overblown fold of her arms, she pouted, "Sojiro doesn't trust me with anything. Whenever something happens, he always tells me to stay inside, go back to my room, or wait until he's taken care of it. It's like he doesn't think I can help out!"

Biting down on his pinkie finger, Akira teased, "Hm. That sounds about right."

" ** _Savage Remark_** _deals thirty_ ** _Self-Confidence_** _damage! It's super effective!"_ Futaba crumbled into the counter and buried her face in her arms. "You didn't have to agree so quickly..."

He chuckled, "I'm only joking, Futaba. He knows how useful you are. He doesn't ask you to do those kinds of things because he cares about you."

She rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated huff. "Well duh, I know he cares about me. But he doesn't trust me enough to handle anything around the cafe. He thinks I'm totally incapable of performing simple tasks, like cooking my own dinner or wiping off dirty tables. He could at least make it a group quest and ask me to help you out!"

To be fair, her cooking could make even the most hardened of foodies shrivel with disgust, but he decided better than to bring that point up now. "He's just trying to protect you."

"Oh yes, the catastrophic dangers of washing the dishes," she grumbled sarcastically. "I might accidentally get water in my eye, or even worse, soap!"

Akira smiled. "It'll make sense when you're older."

Futaba let out a colorful guffaw. "It'll make sense when I'm older? Fufufu! I didn't know you chose the sage class."

"It was the only natural choice to complement my superior intellect," he retorted, pushing up his glasses in mock hubris.

"Superior intellect my butt!" Futaba derided. _"And besides, if you really did have higher intellect, you should have picked the wizard class, noob."_ Playfully knocking her knuckles against his skull, she crooned, "Earth to Akira, who's the one who stopped Medjed from destroying the entire Japanese economy and who's the one who gets into arguments every night with his cat?"

Akira's head sank.

A sly simper played across Futaba's visage. " ** _Cold Hard Truth_** _lowers foe Akira's_ ** _Defense!"_**

"It's only every other night," he then said, as if to mitigate the insult.

Sticking out her tongue, she sneered, "Heh, you mad? I couldn't tell over the sound of me winning."

"How are you winning?"

"Well for starters, I still have a working phone."

His head dropped even lower.

" ** _Personal Insult_** _sharply lowers foe Akira's_ _ **Defense**!"_

"I just bought that model last month," he lamented. "At this rate, I won't have a phone for the rest of the year."

"Don't worry," Futaba said. "I'm sure you'll be able to buy a new one in no time considering how much Sojiro's paying you." A pause for comedic effect. "Oh wait." With a knowing smirk, she pointed her index finger to her temple and ended, "Hey, it's not all bad. Can't lose money if you don't make money in the first place."

Akira butted his forehead into the counter with a resounding _thunk!_

" ** _Spicy Meme_** _hits Akira for one-hundred_ ** _Pride_** _damage! It's a one-hit K.O.!"_

"Rip in pepperoni," Futaba snickered, patting her defeated companion on the back. "It was a valiant effort, but if you wanna play with the big kids, you gotta step up your game."

She watched as Akira lifted his head off the bar and rested his chin over the backs of his forearms. Instead of the dejected expression she expected, however, his face was gleaming with a grin. It was full, and mirthful, and sincere. "You've come a long way, Futaba," he said, his tone heartfelt. "I'm proud of you."

Futaba blinked in shock. Huh? Where did this **Sentimental Remark** come from, she wondered. Was Akira trying to lower her guard so he could play another prank on her. Thinning her eyes, she dubiously replied, "Why thank you, Akira. You've come a rather long way yourself..." _"It's a ruse if I've ever seen one!"_

"I'm not trying to prank you," he said. "You don't have to be so anxious."

"Prove it! Show me your hands, stick 'em up!" she demanded, taking on a thick Southern accent.

He opened his palms to reveal that there was nothing in them.

"And empty out your pockets, too!"

Turning them inside out, all he succeeded in providing her were pieces of lint.

Though she wasn't sure what his endgame was, she was still wary of him. "Alright, you're clean… for now." Still throwing him her **Skeptical Glower** , she asked, "Anyway, what did you mean by what you said earlier? About me coming a long way?"

"You know what I meant," Akira said. "You're a completely different girl than the one I found hiding in her own closet because she was too afraid of talking to strangers." Half-lidded grey eyes sought out her deep mauve gaze, and once he'd caught it, his smile only broadened.

Akira's **Charming Disposition** caused Futaba's face to redden. "Well, that was a long time ago," she said, momentarily looking away. "It's only natural that I've changed since then. Besides, you did steal my heart and all." Looking back at him, that sly, roguish smirk gracing his countenance, she felt caught in a hazy stupor, as if her mind were working faster than the world could rotate and everything was moving in slow motion. Goodness, she could stare at that face all day if she had to.

"I'm glad we were able to, Futaba," he replied. "You've been invaluable as both as a member of the team and a friend."

The way he so smoothly spoke her name caused a slight tremble of her legs. "Hah, you know it," she stated, trying to keep her cool. "With our powers combined and all that jazz, right?"

"Go planet," Akira chirped.

Futaba blinked, then laughed, "Wow, I can't believe you got that reference." Moving to ridicule to conceal her growing infatuation, she said, "You're such a closet nerd."

"I didn't think I was trying to hide it," he admitted.

She waved dismissively. "Oh please. You never make those kinds of references around Ryuji or Inari. Too scared of being called out, huh nerd?"

"Well, as long as I get to be the one who controls fire," he said with a roll of his neck, "You can call me anything."

"What?" Futaba jeered, adjusting her round rimmed glasses by their bridge up her nose. Her demeanor had quickly shifted from one of enamorment to one of comprehensive analytical dissection. "Fire is one of the worst elements defensively. You're weak to water, earth, and rock, which are some of the most common types. If you're gonna be one, at least go with the girl who was able to manipulate water."

"But water is so lame."

Futaba could hardly believe what she was hearing. "Lame?! Water only has two weaknesses, one of which is grass, which is more useless than a Stormtrooper trying to hit an MC with three layers of plot armor!"

"Hm. Maybe I'll just pick the one who could control people's hearts. That's poetic considering we're Phantom Thieves, right?" Akira said.

"Sure, and while you're trying to make me feel bad for throwing plastic bottles in the trash, I'll be drowning you in five hundred liters of liquid hydrogen dioxide."

The sides of his eyes wrinkled. "You're such a dork."

Futaba pulled down her lower eyelid. "And you're such a noob."

"I'm intermediate at worst."

"Intermediate? After that total beatdown I handed to you the last time we played Power Intuition, you have the gall to call yourself that?"

"Didn't I win the first round?"

"Only because I was going easy on you!"

"Mhm."

"If I wanted to, I could have swept you like a broom. But I figured I'd take it easy on the newbie, give him a chance to feel good about himself. After all, winning's always sweeter when your opponent actually thinks he has a chance, kekeke!"

"How noble of you."

"The most noblest."

"Well, the next time we play," started Akira, his glasses glinting as he pushed them up. "I won't hold back."

"As if you had anything to hold back in the first place," Futaba taunted. "I can read you like an open book, Akira. I know exactly what you're going to before you even do it!"

"Oh? So you're saying you know every move in the game?"

"Duh, only a total noob wouldn't."

"Even the up dog?"

Futaba cocked her head sideways, passing him a confused glance. "What's up dog?"

Akira smiled. "Nothing much, how about yourself?"

She paused for a moment, then realized she'd been caught in his ruse. "So it's treason, then..." she murmured, looking at Akira like she was ready to pounce him. _"And that was a terrible pun, too!"_

"Hey, hey, that wasn't a prank," Akira asserted, defensively showing off his palms. "You're not allowed to get back at me for that."

Futaba growled lowly but restrained herself. He could take the victory on this one, she thought, because she'd have the last laugh. She hadn't forgotten about phase two of the prank. Her eyes fell briefly over the cabinet where Sojiro hid the ghost peppers and a wicked excitement spread over her conscience. But now was not the moment to be thinking of such things. After all, there was a time and place for everything. "Next time you pull a stunt like that, I'm gonna Koala you," she threatened.

"I'd like to see you try," Akira quipped. "I've perfected an ultimate defense against the Koala. I even practiced it on Morgana, so I know it works."

"A brilliant plan… if I were a cat," Futaba mocked.

"Well, you do nap all day, hate foxes, and love hiding in cramped spaces…"

"I am shocked and offended to compared in such a way, sir!" she cried. "I'll have you know, I only nap half of the day. The other half is spent playing with balls of yarn and chasing my own tail."

After she was finished speaking, the two shared a long, reciprocal pair of smiles, their gazes dancing in each other's eyes. She wasn't sure why they held their stares for as long as they did, but in the moment, it felt right. A rosy redness gradually filled her cheeks and she was forced to break eye contact lest she ripen into a tomato. "Um… right… So, what are we gonna do about dinner?" she asked.

Akira snapped his fingers. "Right, I knew I was forgetting something." He hastily got up out of his chair and donned one of the coffee stained aprons behind the bar. Peeking into the fridge, he took out a Saran wrapped bowl of curry and tossed it in the microwave for an indeterminate amount of time. Whenever he heard a pop from the microwave would be when the food was ready. A true bachelor's style of cooking.

Akira then walked to the kitchen sink and turned the faucet for hot water. He dabbed a sponge in soap and lathered it until it was nice and sudsy before cleaning the dishes. "You're really missing out," he called back to Futaba with a lively smirk. "I'm having a blast with all these chores that Sojiro doesn't trust you enough with."

Futaba watched as Akira busily darted around the cafe much like an actual employee would. Her lips curling at his remark, she leaned over the bar and pestered, "Hey, I think you missed a spot. Make sure you really scrub all that grime clean, otherwise you might get a deduction on your next paycheck."

"Haha," he replied aloofly. "Very funny." A beep coming from the microwave signaled that Futaba's dinner was done heating up. He took it out and set it before her after he finished with the dishes. "Would you like to try some coffee?"

She pursed her lips. "The one that you brewed?" _"It's a trap!"_

"The very same."

"And what if you poisoned it?"

"Then you can prank me as much as you'd like."

The terms of the agreement were suitable. "One cup of your finest joe, Shmoe!" she glowed.

He grabbed one of the clay mugs from underneath the bar and filled it halfway. "Enjoy."

Futaba put her nose on the rim of the mug and sniffed loudly. "Hmmm… smells okay." Bringing the cup to her lips, she took a small sip. Her eyes instantly grew wide with surprise. "Is this Blue Mountain?"

Akira nodded. "Sojiro taught me how to make it. He said it could steal even the coldest woman's heart." He planted his elbows into the bartop and teased, "So, did it work?"

Of course Sojiro would say that about this blend, Futaba thought. A small smile played across her face. "This was my mom's favorite brew," she hushed, staring down into the mug nostalgically. "He'd always make it for her whenever we came by to visit."

The badgering tone he carried dissipated, replaced by one of compassion. "Is it your favorite as well?"

"Yeah," she said. "Sojiro makes it for me whenever I'm feeling down. It reminds me of mom. But it's a good kind of reminder, you know? It hurts a bit, but that just means I still love her."

He silently concurred. After an appropriate amount of time had passed, he pushed the plate of curry toward her and said, "You should eat it before it gets cold."

His proposal snapped her out of her dream-like trance. "Oh, right!" she exclaimed. Rapidly snatching her fork and knife, she began devouring the meal as if it were her last. Ravenous gnarls spewed from her mouth. Pieces of food went flying across the counter. She belched and spat and slavered so violently, Akira could have sworn he saw a tiny preta roosted on her shoulder. Still voraciously stabbing her plate with her fork, she extended her hand toward him and demanded in a muffled voice, "Wahturr! Wahturr!"

Akira assumed that jumbled mess of sounds meant water and promptly filled up a glass for her. "So, was that your revenge earlier? Scaring me while I was on the coffee grinder?" he asked, passing it over to her.

"Hrmm?" Futaba hummed with curry filled cheeks. She tilted her head back and chugged the glass he handed her in five huge, throat bulging gulps, then burped so ferociously the door rattled. Exhaling with satisfaction, she replied, "Yup. That was it alright. Consider yourself pranked!"

Somehow he doubted that was all she had in mind. "Are you sure that was it?" he asked as he circled around the bar.

" _Uh oh. It looks like he's starting to catch on. Quick, distract him!"_ Her **Cheery Smile** hid a laundry list of lies. "Yup! You're pretty lucky, y'know. After you put that rubber snake in my bathroom last week, I was thinking about going nuclear on you! But I didn't, so you're welcome."

"I see," he said, his gaze fixed on her visage. "I only ask because I know how seriously you take pranking."

" ** _Evasive Maneuvers!"_** Innocently she batted her eyelashes. "Me? Like pranking? What would ever make you think that?"

"You put food dye in my toothpaste," he began.

"Just a minor decoration for your teeth."

"You hid clocks all over my room and gave them different alarm intervals."

"That was to make sure you got up for school on time! You should be thanking me for that one."

"You switched my pistachio ice cream with wasabi."

"Shouldn't we all be open to trying new things?"

"You threatened to leak my browsing history."

Futaba couldn't suppress her laughter. Breaking her facade, she giggled, "Heh, that might have been a little much. But I was only kidding. I did it to see the look on your face. And what a glorious face it was! Kekeke."

Happy to have proven his point, Akira simply shook his head. "All that talent and you choose to snoop around my private life." He thought for a moment longer before continuing, "Have you ever thought about using those skills for the greater good again?"

She lifted a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're only fifteen, but already you're one of the best hackers in Japan You'd be invaluable to the government if you helped them out with cyber security," he said.

"Yeah, if I ever joined," she scoffed. Pointing her fork at him, she explained, "The reason I founded Medjed was precisely because I didn't want to work for the government. There's way too much bureaucracy involved, I'd hardly be able to get through all that red tape. I figured I'd be better off going solo queue and doing the whole hacktivist thing by myself, no strings attached."

"You could go back to being Alibaba."

Futaba stuck the fork back in her mouth, rolling over it with her tongue. "I could. But being a Phantom Thief already takes up so much of my time. And if I had to choose between the two, I'd choose being a Phantom Thief any day of the week."

He conceded to her point. "Do you miss it? Being Alibaba?"

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't, at least not a little bit."

"Do you think you'd ever go back?"

She quietly meditated on his question. Taking a few additional moments to compose her answer, she responded, "I do. To me, being Alibaba wasn't just a hobby. It was my life. After my mom died, I fell into a spiral of depression." She swallowed, but continued speaking. "It was almost impossible for me to talk to anyone in real life. I couldn't even leave my room without having a panic attack. But over the Internet, you can go anywhere, be anyone. A model, a writer, a doctor, heck, you could probably even get away with pretending to be a dog. You can put on as many masks as you want."

Futaba's last sentiment reminded Akira of the conversation he had with Tae. _"As many masks as you want..."_ he repeated in his head. He wondered just how masks of his own he wore. Listening intently to her commentary, he quietly nodded along, his gaze never leaving hers.

"You know, I actually became Alibaba under the pretense of being some kind of online vigilante, kind of like an Internet Batman," she smirked. "Hacking into sleazy corporations' databases, exposing underground crime groups, leaking documents that were covered up by government officials, I told myself I was doing it all for the greater good." She sighed. "But in reality, I was doing it because I was empty on the inside. I felt worthless, useless, hopeless. So many people had told me how pathetic I was, how I didn't deserve to live, how it was my fault my mother died… But hacking was something I wasn't completely horrible at. I figured if I could prove how valuable I was, I could learn to love myself again. You saw how well that turned out…"

Staring at her knees, her tone suddenly lifted. "But then I met you and the Phantom Thieves, and my life changed infinitely for the better. I'm no longer Alibaba, and a part of me will always miss that, but I don't have to be her any longer. I'm Oracle now, and I know what I'm doing isn't just for making myself feel better, it's to make the world a better place. I'm not just exposing corruption to satisfy my ego, I'm doing it so no one else has to suffer the same fate as I did under the hands of corrupt adults." She looked up and returned Akira's gaze. "And it's all thanks to you, Akira."

Her acknowledgment humbled him. She gave too much credit for her own achievements, he thought. Her transformation from that sheepish recluse he encountered all those days ago was her own doing. Though he and the other Phantom Thieves might have nurtured that growth, she was the one who blossomed with it. But a compliment was a compliment, and he wouldn't argue with her about it now. Cheeks dimpling, he praised, "You really have come a long way, Futaba."

Futaba's eyes twinkled. "You've come a long way too, you know. When I first joined the Phantom Thieves, I remember you hardly talked to anyone. And now look at you, you're more popular than a tank in LFG!"

He rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, you and Ryuji have really rubbed off on me."

"Did you just compare me to Sakamoto?" she snorted. "You do know his grade point average is probably less than half of what mine was in middle school, right?"

Akira held back a laugh. "Why is it that Ryuji always gets the short end of the stick?"

"Because he makes himself such an easy target, duh. When you always say the first thing that comes to your mind like he does, you're bound to get burned."

"He does have a habit of leaping before he looks instead of looking before he leaps." Akira's face suddenly caught in mid-thought. This would probably be the best time to reveal the secret, he plotted. A devilish smile dangled from his lips. Nodding at Futaba, he finished, "And speaking of looking, why don't you take a look at your phone?"

Futaba blinked. "Huh, my phone…?" She patted herself down in an attempt to find her device, but to no avail. Then, looking down at the counter, she saw her phone was placed squarely on top of the bar instead. Her face grew severe. "What the… how did it get there?" She glanced at Akira and shot an **Angry Glare**. "What did you do to my phone?"

Akira only smiled. "Enjoy."

Swiftly turning on her device, she gasped in horror at the image that first appeared on her screen. Her background had been swapped. It was no longer that 8-bit picture she'd found online of the Phantom Thieves logo. It was now a compilation of Yusuke's face, each portrait sporting a different, albeit just as silly looking, expression. "W-what? How did you get Inari on my…?"

"The pictures I took over the course of a few months," Akira disclosed, coolly sticking his right hand in his pocket. "As for your phone, I nabbed it before I started microwaving your dinner. You weren't paying attention for a while, that's when I got it." Wagging an index finger at her face, he taunted, "You should really watch over your things more carefully."

Futaba would be lying if she said she weren't impressed. The sheer amount of dedication it must have taken to snap all those pictures of Yusuke was staggering in itself, but managing to get the jump on her? It was the work of a master prankster. "Hmph!" she pouted. "Now you've done it! I warned you I would Koala you if you tried anything funny, but you didn't listen! Now face the consequences!" Perched on her seat like a tiger about to pounce, she cried, "Koalaaaaaa!" and leapt onto Akira's back.

He grinned as she jumped onto him. "Haha, hey. Get down from there you dork," he laughed, holding onto her arms to ensure that she wouldn't fall. Yet her rocking was far more aggressive than usual, no doubt because of his prank inciting her. Losing his balance for a second, he warned, "Woah, Futaba, be careful. Don't pull down too hard, I'm a little dizzy today."

But Futaba wasn't listening. She dangled loosely off of Akira's back, shouting, "Take that, you demon! And that! And that!" while butting her forehead into his back.

Before Akira could get her to stop, an abrupt sensation of vertigo passed over him. His vision whirling out of control, he swayed groggily to the left, then to the right, and then all at once, he completely lost his balance and began toppling to the ground.

"Woah!" Futaba cried as she held onto him even tighter. "Abort, abort!"

Damn, he thought, there was no time to stop himself from falling. He pivoted on his right foot and hugged Futaba tight to his chest. Right before they crashed, he spun himself around so that his back struck the floor instead of hers. A loud _thud!_ redounded through _Leblanc_ , and for about a minute, everything was still hazy. It wasn't until he fully came to that he realized just the predicament he was in.

As Akira's vision returned to him, he lifted his head off the ground and checked to see if Futaba was safe. To his surprise, however, she was right there. Not right there buried in his chest like she was when they hugged, but right there on top of him, her face hovering above his. Because he hadn't relinquished his hold from earlier, she didn't have a chance to readjust herself. She had simply remained there, her petite body squished snug against his toned one, her lips mere inches from his. "Oh."

Futaba's face was a mixture of traumatized and embarrassed. Redder than the skin of an apple, she could practically see the heat lines from the warmth that radiated from her cheeks. "U-um, hey there…" she mewled abashedly. Staring down at him, her hands placed onto his muscled pectorals, she wiggled in his grasp. "Do you uh… do you think you could let go a little?" _"Or don't. Either works just fine."_

Quickly realizing the situation, Akira slackened his grip. "Ah. I'm sorry, I didn't…" He stopped halfway through his sentence. Catching the look on Futaba's face, he felt sparks light within his breast. It was in that moment he felt like he truly looked at her for the first time since their meeting. Those beautiful mallow eyes, that perky button nose, that perfectly rounded face which tapered into her cute chin… Did she always look this… adorable, he wondered?

Futaba must have noticed the way he was gawking because she quickly looked away. "W-what? S-stop looking at me like that! You're creeping me out…" she stuttered. With a sharp exhale, she finished, "I-if you have something to say, just s-say it!"

Even after her words of admonishment, Akira noticed that she hadn't moved an inch. Her face was still poised above his, and her hands still gripped his chest. As embarrassed as she appeared, could it be that she have enjoyed being in this position with him? "Futaba," he finally spoke, his voice soft and alluring. "You look really nice."

She immediately turned to face him. Face still burning, she said, "T-thank you..." Inhaling the knot in her gullet, she then retorted, "You uh… you l-look nice too…" Slowly, the color faded from her complexion as she grew more comfortable lying there with him. As she lost herself in his tender gaze, she found the muscles in her neck that kept her from falling into him weaken. Whether it was because she was tired or because she longed for a closer touch, she wouldn't say. All she knew was that as they stared longingly into each other's gaze, she was beginning to lean into him.

And then, against all better judgment, Akira leaned into her.

* * *

 ** _October 30, 6:00pm  
_** ** _Yongen-Jaya Backstreets_**

Darkness settled over the horizon as the clocks struck six.

He ran like a hunted deer, his luxurious black mane sweeping behind him. Heart hammering, veins pulsing, throat rasping desperately for air, his tongue practically lolled out of his mouth. Yet he continued to suffer forward, eyes heavy in their sockets, a mortal exhaustion in his stare.

He did not run for wealth, or for welfare, or for women. He ran for Akira. He ran faster than he'd ever run in his life to warn Akira of the impending danger he'd unwittingly brought with him, to beg for him to flee.

But time was running short, and day was almost night. As the stars dappled the sky in tiny, bright motes, all he could do was keep moving before it was too late.

" _Please be okay, Akira,"_ he thought, his hair slick with sweat, his eyes moist with fear. _"Please let me make it there in time…"_

The clocks were striking six and judgment was just around the corner.

* * *

 ** _October 30, 6:01pm  
_** ** _Cafe Leblanc_**

A fire burned in Akira's chest. The hot, muddled ambitions of his heart vanquished any semblance of coherent logic. With Futaba lying on top of him, their bodies pressed together, and their faces almost touching, the only thoughts tracing through his mind were those of desire. His body started begging for her affection. It didn't just want it, it required it. He wanted to hold her, touch her, feel her. He wanted to capture those pretty cupid's bow lips between his... and kiss them over and over.

And he almost did just that. In a single deft motion, he cupped the side of Futaba's face and pushed away several strands of displaced hair that fell across her visage. His padded thumb smoothed over her cheek, blushing and red with embarrassment. Those beautiful thin lips of hers trembled as he outlined them with his digit. Holding onto the back of her neck, he slowly brought her toward him, his breath beating hotly against her chin. The space between them grew shorter and shorter until at last only a finger's length of distance separated them.

Meanwhile, Futaba was swept up in a wave of passion and confusion. What was happening, she wondered. One second they were making fun of each other, the next, they were about to kiss? This wasn't one of her dating sim games, she couldn't just read a manual and tell what Akira was thinking.

And yet every muscle in her body told her to pursue him. She had been waiting for a moment like this to tell him about her feelings for him. And now she had the opportunity to not just tell him, but show him. Eyes closed and heart throbbing, she pursed her lips and lowered herself into him…

" _Just do it, you fool! This is the moment you've been waiting for! Kiss him!_ ** _Kiss him_**

But just as she was about to plant a peck on his lips, she felt a sudden, rough movement underneath her. Faceplanting into the hard floor, she opened her eyes and looked around. She was now alone on the ground. Akira, on the other hand, was sprinting straight for the bathroom. She barely caught a glimpse of his face before he shut the bathroom door behind him, the tumbler locking noisily in place. What had gotten into him, she wondered.

Rising to her feet, she followed after Akira and knocked on the bathroom door. "U-um, Akira?" she asked, her shy tone no louder than a whisper. "Are you okay? Did um… did something happen?" _"Dammit. You screwed up, Futaba. You screwed up_ ** _big time_**

There was no response at first. After a few seconds of silence, she heard him reply, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just… need to use the bathroom."

She gloomed. "Oh, I see." As she stood silently outside, she inwardly chastised herself, _"Stupid Futaba, stupid, stupid! What were you thinking, going in for a kiss? You need at least thirty more levels in your_ ** _Charm_** _to even pull off a move like that! Now he probably thinks you're a total weirdo."_ To be fair, it did seem like he instigated the whole affair. Which made his sudden retreat into the bathroom all the more perplexing. Sighing into her chest, she settled, "So um… it's getting kind of late. I think I'm gonna head back to my room for tonight. I'll uh… see you later?" _"Gah! That was a horrible way to say goodbye!"_

Another long silence, followed by a simple, "Okay."

Seeing as there was nothing left to say on the matter, Futaba called out, "Okay, see you later," and started heading out of _Leblanc_. Although the encounter had her scratching her head by the end of it, she did take away one important fact from tonight: no matter how long it took, she vowed she would muster up the courage to tell Akira just how she felt. _"That's the only way I'll ever have a chance with him, by telling him the truth."_ Breathing in deeply, she strode out of the cafe, a confidence building within her that had remained dormant until now. Perhaps it would take a week, she thought. Perhaps it would take a month. Perhaps it would even take a whole year. But one way or another, she was going to keep that vow of hers.

" _Just you wait Akira. Just you wait."_

Back in _Leblanc_ , Akira repeatedly splashed palmful after palmful of cold water over his face. It usually did wonders for calming him down. But in this situation there was no such thing as calm. He almost just kissed Futaba. _Kissed_ her. And if he hadn't pulled away at the last minute, he would have. He was lucky that he managed to gain control of his better judgment and lock himself in the bathroom, otherwise, he would have ended up locking lips with her. The thought nearly caused him to shiver. But even if he wouldn't admit it out loud, deep down, a part of him truly wanted to put his lips upon hers, to run his hands through her bright hair, to lift her up in a passionate embrace…

" _No. Stop it. Focus, Akira. Focus. This isn't you, this is… this is..."_ He let out a defeated sigh. _"Just what is this?"_

Bending over the sink, Akira's hands tightly gripped the sides of the porcelain basin. Why did he start acting so strangely before, he wondered, back when he was on the ground with Futaba. Why did he suddenly feel so… attracted to her? It wasn't like him at all to feel or act this way. Could it have been the effect of Takemi's drugs? He waved a hand over his eyes to check if his vision was blurred. He wasn't hallucinating, he surmised, so it had to be something else.

That was when he noticed the half-opened pill bottle behind the faucet. Picking it up, he turned it over to its label and read it aloud. "Mayakashi…?" Why did that name sound so familiar? Shaking one of the pills out of the bottle, he studied it carefully in his palm. His stomach suddenly sank. "This was the pill Ryuji gave me to feel better…"

Quickly returning to the label, Akira scanned it for any warnings or side effects. "Take only one pill in a twenty four hour span. May cause delayed nausea, dizziness, hallucinogenic episodes, and increased body temperature." That explained why he fell over after Futaba climbed on his back, but it still didn't solve the issue of why he'd tried to kiss her.

But then he flipped the bottle around and read the subscript beneath the stylized brand name. The realization nearly caused his jaw to drop agape.

 _Makayashi love pills! Guaranteed to spice up your sex life! One pill and you'll be flying on cloud nine for up to eight hours!_

Love pills.

Sex life.

Eight hours.

… Did Ryuji just unintentionally roofie him?

The bottle dropped from his loosened grip and clacked in the sink. He held onto his chest and felt the throbbing of his heart. This was going to last for eight hours? He had to visit Tae. He had to ask her if she had some kind of antidote that could cure him. Unlocking the bathroom door, Akira raced for the exit, only to be stopped in his tracks by a familiar voice as soon as he reached the front door.

"Hah… hah… wait! Akira! I'm… I'm so glad... I made it… You… you need… to hide… now..."

The voice had come from none other than Morgana. "Morgana? You're back?" Akira asked. He wondered whether his feline friend was actually there or merely a figment of his drug induced imagination. With all the strange things happening to him today, he wouldn't have doubted the latter. "What happened to you? Are you okay?"

Panting wildly, Morgana collapsed onto his stomach, his legs spread apart like the cardinal directions on a compass. He looked as if he'd just ran a marathon and then some. Stomach rising and falling rapidly, his tongue hung messily out of his mouth. "I'm… I'm sorry… Akira.."

Shaking his head in confusion Akira questioned, "Why are you sorry?"

"I… I'm sorry Akira… I really... messed up…" he heaved, catching his breath between every strained word. "I… got lost… way home… and so… Niijima-san's house… but… wasn't there and… I'm sorry…"

Akira kneeled beside his companion and pet him under the chin. "Deep breaths. What happened after you went to Niijima-san's apartment?"

"It's… too late for… questions… need to hide... before…"

His explanation was interrupted by the sudden ring of the front door bell. Akira's gaze lifted to see who had entered. And once he did, he felt his heart stop in his chest.

An icy cold stare, a poised gait, and an imperially regal presence. Silvery grey hair, a pristinely ironed suit, and heels so sharp they could cut the tension in any room she entered. It was certainly Niijima-san who walked through the door. Just not the one he expected.

Rising to his feet to receive his newest guest, he acknowledged her with a single nod. In return, she flashed him the slightest hint of a smile.

"It's good to see you again, Akira Kurusu"

"A pleasure as always, Sae Niijima."

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, friends! I hope you've all had a great week. To start off, I'd like to give some very specific kudos to some very special users!

The first kudos is to **gardevoir** for allowing me to use their Futaba stories as reference for portraying her. Of all the characters I've had to write so far, Futaba was the most challenging. However, thanks to **gardevoir** , who I believe captures Futaba and her thought process better than any other author, the process was significantly easier. If you haven't already, please check out **gardevoir's** works! They're an amazing writer and have an amazing range of stories, many of which involve very rare pairings. _she's my collar_ a one-shot between Futaba and Yusuke, is a personal favorite of mine. Go read it!

Secondly, I'd like to thank **PRemington900** for his amazing and continuous support. When I was questioning whether I should keep my stories to myself or continue publishing them publicly, his interest greatly helped me reach the conclusion that I should keep _three words to die for_ up so that I could continue to share it with you all. I love writing so very much, as I believe it's an amazing way to communicate and connect with others. So thank you, **PRemington900** , for being such an incredible reader and reminding me just why I love to write!

As for the chapter, more and more ladies seem to be piling into the story. When I imagined Futaba's relationship with Akira, I thought it would be far more playful than his relationships with other women. This is partly due to Futaba's somewhat childish behavior and the fact that she lives, unlike many of Akira's other confidants, in very close proximity to Akira. No doubt the two would cross paths multiple times over the period of a day, especially since Sojiro is both of their guardians. But their relationship is also very serious. Futaba views Akira as one of her closest friends because he brought her out of a life of crippling solitude. He did not cure her depression, or her social anxiety, or her agoraphobia, as evidenced by her behavior in public settings and her recurring nightmares, but he did make living no longer seem like a burden. That is enough for her to view him as a truly valuable friend, and perhaps even more.

When I first started the story, I didn't want to reveal that all the females in the game would be after Akira, particularly because I wanted to keep some of it a surprise. However, now that the cards are out on the table, I'll let it be known that Akira will be pursued by otherwise non-romanceable female confidants. So for all of you who enjoy shipping Sae and Akira, rejoice! There will be plenty of that to come.

There will be one more chapter after this one, followed by a one week "break" as I write chapter 8. Because chapter 8 is the culmination of all the day two chapters, it will tie a bow around several major storylines and bring many characters together for one, big crossover. This means it will likely take two weeks for me to write, hence the one week "break" I have planned. I can't say what's in store for it, but hopefully it will surprise many of you! Fufufu...

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope you all have a good week! See you next time, friends!

 **NEXT TIME:** judgement i

* * *

 **EDIT:** This Friday my mother was taken to the E.R. after a car crash. She has several broken bones but the doctors told my family that she will be okay. I'm going to be pushing the next chapter back a week so I can be with family. Please drive safely friends, and make safe choices. Your lives are all precious.


	7. day two - judgement i

**.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **judgement i**

* * *

 _ **October 30, 6:10pm  
**_ _ **Cafe Leblanc**_

Those golden eyes once held all the stars in the sky. Now all they saw was darkness.

Despite being emptier than a bird's nest in December, _Leblanc_ was filled by Sae Niijima's presence alone. Everything about it was imposing, larger than life, mythical, especially in those dagger stiletto heels. It certainly fit well with her peers' nickname for her — the Leviathan of the Courtroom.

With a cursory scan of the cafe she squinted towards the bar, looking for something, someone. "Where is Sojiro?" she asked. "Is he not in today?"

Akira pinned Sae with a glower. He didn't mince his words. "No, he's not. Why are you?"

Sae's attention cut to Akira's face. It was sharp and angled like his response. She studied it for a moment longer before gesturing a short nod at Morgana. "I found him outside my apartment tonight. He was clawing at my door and hissing up a storm, I almost mistook him for an intruder. I thought I might as well bring him back to save you the trouble of putting up missing posters."

Akira did not reply at once. Scooping up Morgana in his arms, he waited for his companion's account of things to corroborate her claim.

"It's… the truth…" the feline said, his voice breathy and weak. "But… we can't trust her… After all… she has a Palace..."

That was right. Even if she came here in good faith she was still the enemy. The Phantom Thieves were going to infiltrate her Palace, and there was little room for niceties when it came to stealing hearts.

Akira lifted his chin and cast her a muted glance. "Thank you. I can take care of things from here."

Then, showing his back to Sae, he began to walk away.

"Hold on," Sae called out, taking a step forward. "Where are you going?"

He stopped and turned halfway to meet her. "I'm going to take Morgana upstairs to make sure he's okay."

"And what about me?"

"What about you?"

"Aren't you supposed to provide exceptional service to all your customers?"

Akira blinked. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean," Sae said, extending a diplomatic smile. "Is that I'd like to order a cup of coffee. House blend."

Her expression seemed fabricated, disconnected, as if there was something missing from it to make it a real, human expression.

He didn't trust it.

"I'm going to put this one upstairs first," Akira said. "I'll come down to brew you a cup after."

Sae bowed her head in understanding. She pulled out the bar chair closest to the door, set her handbag over its crest rail, and took a seat. "Take your time," she said, picking up a copy of the news that had been left on the counter. "I can wait."

She didn't have to tell him twice.

Walking deeper into the cafe, Akira climbed the set of stairs at the rear and headed up to his attic room, the halffconscious Morgana groaning with each of his choppy steps. Once he arrived, he sat at the edge of his bed and laid Morgana down on the covers. He glossed his hand through his jet black fur and felt his lips tug into a gentle grin. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows tight with concern.

Having finally caught his breath, Morgana rolled onto his stomach and grumbled, "If you call having to run across half of the neighborhood and almost getting hit by a car in the process okay…" He groaned into his paws. "I can't believe I got lost. I was so sure I knew the way back home!"

Akira chuckled. "It happens to all of us." He gently pet the slope of Morgana's back, his eyes settling on the cat's bright yellow collar "Where have you been? You said something about Niijima's apartment?"

"That's right," Morgana said, tilting his body into Akira's caresses. "I thought that Makoto might be able to help me find my way home, or at least contact you to let you know that I was okay."

"Oh. So you remember where Makoto lives, but not me?" Akira delivered a light pinch to the nape of the cat's neck. "I'm jealous."

Morgana sprang up on all fours. "Ouch! H-hey, it wasn't my fault!" he whined. "I had no idea how complicated the subway systems were! And besides, there was no way I was gonna walk all the way back to _Leblanc_. That would've taken forever!"

"I bet if I were a pretty girl like Makoto you would have."

If Morgana could blush, his face would be pink as a peach. "N-nuh uh! It's not like that!" he stammered, stamping his front paw down in protest. "I went to her apartment because I remembered how to get there from school, that's all! And besides, if you hadn't left me, I wouldn't have even been in this situation?"

"If I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted to leave me," Akira cited.

Morgana let out a churlish pout, his nose pointed toward the ceiling. "Well, whatever! You know, if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't be bullying me so much. In fact, I would be thanking me!"

That was a curious response. "What for?" Akira asked.

Morgana paused. Now staring straight at Akira, his demeanor grew terribly severe. "I saw him there," he said, the hairs on his back standing on end. His eyes were round and his jaw was taut with tension. It was as if he had seen the ghost of a man long since dead. "At Niijima-san's apartment. He was there, Akira, I saw him."

The warmth across Akira's complexion vanished like the last spark of a dying fire. His voice became low and humorless. "Are you sure Morgana? Could you have mistaken someone else for him?"

He shook his head. "It couldn't have been anyone else. I'm sure of it."

Akira planted his elbows on his thighs, his brows lowered to just above his silvered eyes. _"So, he was there,"_ he thought into his clasped hands. _"It looks like our suspicions were correct."_ Looking down at Morgana, he said, "Start from the beginning. Tell me everything."

Morgana nodded. "I was following Makoto home. She had just gotten off at the Shibuya station…"

* * *

 _ **October 30, 4:36pm  
Shibuya Station**_

" _Gah! Where did she go? Don't tell me I lost her!"_

Morgana's eyes darted left, then right, then left again. He was looking for any sign of Makoto, any indication that she had gone through this way. He looked past the stairs, up the escalator, over the booths.

Nothing.

He cursed under his breath. Who in the world built this place, he thought. M.C. Escher? Compared to this exploring Mementos was a cinch. He was capable of moving around the Metaverse as if he were reading the back of his palm. But this labyrinth of winding channels and spiraling pathways was impossible to maneuver. _"These humans must have some kind of sixth sense when it comes to navigating terribly designed tunnels."_

He paused as he rewound that sentence over in his head. Why did it sound so... wrong? These humans…

These humans?

" _W-wait… that's not what I meant!"_ he mentally lashed himself. He didn't mean to put it like that. It must have been the stress getting to him. After all, he was one of those human too — he was, truly! It was just… He was transformed into a cat for some reason. Yes, that was it! Morgana was sure of his humanity, cocksure, certain in fact! And he would prove it by transforming back into one when all of this was over. That'll show that idiot Ryuji, he thought. That'll show them all. And once he was human, he could finally court the woman of his dreams…

With a violent shake of his body, he snapped back to reality and restated his priorities. He was lost in Shibuya. He had to get back home. Makoto was his best chance to get back home. He had to find Makoto.

Morgana drew in a swift breath. _"Alright then, let's find Makoto!"_ Rearing up on his hind legs like an Olympic runner, he broke into a sprint and dashed off. Zigging and zagging between the legs of his taller, humanoid counterparts, he bound through the Shibuya subways as fast a lion chasing its prey. And seeing his pace, it wouldn't be long before he found it.

All walks of life converged in Shibuya. There were people with big bellies, people with expensive handbags, and people with tattoos strewn across their bodies. Some wore suits, others t-shirts and jeans, and some wore little to nothing at all. Yet all of them carried the same, complacent expression. Their eyes were dimmed as if the life had been drained from them. All the dreams and aspirations that once populated their faces had deliquesced into the same, blank half-lidded stare. It reminded him of Mementos and of the Shadows that inhabited it, shambling along like mindless drones. It was hard to look at them, to watch them living out their torturous eternities. He wondered if the Phantom Thieves could steal their hearts too.

Then an unexpected sensation struck him. He felt a presence within the crowd, one that wasn't like the others. It held an air of regality, like that of a queen watching over her subjects. Strong and resolute, yet still genteel and kind, it was the kind of presence that Morgana could identify in a heartbeat. _"That has to Makoto!"_ he deduced. _"Only she could be giving off an energy like that, I just know it!"_

Morgana followed the aura to its source. He shifted through the sea of people and their absent attentions until at last he caught sight of the person it attached to sitting across the tracks. To his surprise it came from someone he knew, a someone that was a girl. And to his greater surprise, that someone wasn't Makoto.

She was sitting on a green bench wearing a sun hat with a large brim that shadowed her complexion. Russet brown hair circled her ears, voluminous and fluffy like two dazzling clouds of cotton candy. She wore a pink turtleneck cardigan, ribbed and billowy, and white tights with a flower pattern. In her hands was a violin, but unlike a street performer she did not have a jar of donations. That was when Morgana noticed several children circled around her. They had large, eager eyes and watched her expectantly.

With a graceful draw of her bow, she began to play the violin. And what a beautiful sound she produced! Soulful and bright and full of life, it reverberated off the subway walls with such grace, such a wonderful timbre that it evoked the performance of a Classic virtuoso. It captivated Morgana like the whispers of sweet nothings from a lover, lulled him into a state of lethargy. It music befitting of an Empress.

There were few women in Japan as powerful as Haru Okumura. At the tender age of seventeen, she inherited the Okumura Foods dynasty after the sudden death of her father Kunikazu Okumura. An international corporation that held an enormous share of the Japanese fast food market, Okumura Foods was infamous for its cheap food and even cheaper scandals. Fake earnings reports, humans rights violations, and unethically boosted revenue were only the tip of the iceberg when it came to the company's offenses. Her father, an ambitious tycoon with little regard for his employees well being, did an excellent job of covering these incidents up through his money and connections. One call to the right person and all the complaints vanished overnight.

However, Kunikazu was gone, and Haru did not share her father's ruthless appetite for success. She hardly even had an interest in the fast food industry. Her true passions laid in ventures that did not involve so much capital and corruption. Perhaps it was unfair for her to say, as she had lived her whole life in wealth, but she prescribed to the belief that excessive money warped the soul. So instead she dedicated herself to humbler undertakings, ones that involved helping the less fortunate. That included volunteering at soup kitchens, attending charity dinners, or even playing music in the subways for lonely orphans.

With a final draw of her string, Haru finished her piece. She gestured a flourish of her hand and bowed. "Thank you all for listening. You've truly been a wonderful audience," she said to the four children standing before her.

"Wow! That was incredible!" a girl standing by her side clapped, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "You're amazing at the violin, oneesama!"

The boy next to her agreed with a series of rapid head bobs. "Yeah, that was seriously awesome Haru-sama! I've never heard anyone play as good as you!"

Haru smiled with beautiful candor. "Thank you Kagami-chan, Yasuo-kun. I'm glad you all enjoyed it. Truthfully I believe I'm adequate at best, but I deeply appreciate your compliments."

"Huh? Adequate?! What are you talking about!" Yasuo crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, "You always act so humble Haru-sama. You should be more confident! If I were as good as you at anything, I'd let the whole world know!"

"That's because the only thing you're good at is wetting your pants," an older boy taunted behind him. The others broke out in laughter.

Yasuo's ears burned red. Staring at the floor, he said, "Hey, that's not fair Hideo! That was only one time… and it wasn't even my fault!"

"Oh right. I guess someone else told you to drink three bottles of water before getting on the bus for the big field trip."

"It was only two and a half, and I didn't know the ride was gonna be that long!"

"Or apparently that your bladder was that small," Hideo snickered.

The sides of Haru's mouth slanted into a frown after listening to their back and forth. "That wasn't very nice of you to say, Hideo-kun," she said, her voice half schooling, half scolding. "You shouldn't pick on Yasuo like that."

Hideo — who was moments ago grinning like a Cheshire Cat — froze like a deer in headlights. "Ah… S-Sorry Haru-sama," he began, rubbing his right elbow with his opposite hand. "I was only teasing."

Haru shook her head. "Teasing or not, that was an unkind thing for you to say to Yasuo. And what did Mikami-sama tell you about saying unkind things?"

"If you have nothing nice to say, don't say nothing at all," Hideo recited as he were reading the phrase out of a self-help book.

"Very good. What should you say instead if you hurt someone's feelings?"

Eyes now planted on his knees, Hideo pivoted to face Yasuo. "Sorry Yasuo…" he said. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings…"

Yasuo, who appeared equally embarrassed by this turn of events, replied with a low hum, "That's okay, Hideo. I forgive you."

As Haru watched the two children reconcile, her demeanor softened. "Thank you, Hideo. That was very kind of you." She set her violin back in its case. "I don't mean to be so overbearing, but you should all be kind to one another. After all, you're good friends, aren't you?" The children inclined their heads in compliance. "Then you should all take care of each other."

"Oh! Oh! Does oneesama have good friends too?" the youngest girl in the group asked.

"Yes, Mizuki-chan. In fact, I have four friends very dear to me who are here right now," Haru beamed.

"No, besides us!" Mizuki said. "Do you have any friends besides us?"

"Yeah Haru-sama, who are they?" Kagami pressed. "Tell us! Tell us!"

"Well," Haru began with an excited whisper, leaning forward in her seat like a teacher telling her class a story. "If you'd really like to know, my other friends are actually very interesting people."

"How so?" Yasuo asked, sitting on the bench beside Haru. Kagami and Mizuki also sat down while Hideo stayed standing.

"One of them is a cat named Mona, the Outlaw," she said. "He's a noble swordsman with a heart of gold, who outmaneuvers all his foes with his incredible speed and wit. Known far and wide for his heroic exploits, he captures the hearts of all women who cross paths with him!"

"Huh? You're friends with a swordsman cat?" Kagami asked, tilting her head. "But that's impossible! Cats can't use swords…! Can they?"

"When love is your power and imagination is your guide, nothing is impossible."

The surety with which she spoke those words imbued the children with enthusiasm. "Wow! Who are your other friends, Haru-sama?" Yasuo asked as he jumped up and down in his seat. "Are they all swordsmen like Mona?"

"Let me see," Haru began, placing a finger on her cheek. "There's Skull, the Pirate Legend. He's a daring buccaneer who has conquered the seven seas and wrested countless treasures from ignoble kings! And then there's Panther, the Alluring Dancer, a woman with a voice so sweet and an appearance so captivating that all men fall to their knees at the very sight of her." The way she spoke about her friends with such childish splendor, it was hard to imagine that she was a student at Shujin Academy, let alone a third year.

"What does she look like?" Yasuo interjected. "Panther, I mean. Is she… is she really pretty?"

"Of course she's pretty, she's friends with Haru-sama!" shouted Kagami. "There's no way she'd hang out with ugly people!"

"Yes, she is quite beautiful," Haru said, her face gleaming with enthusiasm. "But even her looks are nothing compared to the drawings of my other friend Fox, the Gallant Rogue. A distinguished artist by day and a charming rogue by night, he steals from the rich and gives to the needy in the hopes of making the world a better place!"

"Woah!" Mizuki cheered. "That's so cool! I wanna be like Fox when I grow up, he sounds like a superhero!"

"I wanna be like Panther! I'll dance so well, all the guys at school will have to be my boyfriends!" Kagami said.

"Well I'm gonna be like Skull!" Yasuo said. "That way I can get all the treasure I want and buy myself a big palace!"

Haru watched their excitement with a mild smile. It was nice not having to act her age around them, she thought, not having to worry about them judging her like the callous old men on the board of directors at Okumura Foods did. As she looked to her side, she noticed that Hideo was not joining in on the revelry. The boy, who was typically extroverted and open, had his hands stuffed in his pockets. He seemed only peripherally aware of his surroundings, his attention focused on the floor beneath his feet. Studying his downtrodden gaze for a moment, she inquired, "What's wrong, Hideo? Are you feeling alright?"

Hideo's body and complexion abruptly shot up. "Yeah! Everything's fine!" he exclaimed, perhaps a little too eagerly. "Don't worry about me, Haru-sama. I'm just a little distracted." His eyes lowered when he finished speaking, as if he were looking inward and consulting with himself.

Haru cast him a knowing glance. "Are you sure?"

Hideo remained quiet for some time. "Well actually…" he began, his voice soft and conciliatory. "I was actually wondering about your other friends..."

"Yes?" Haru said, leaning forward towards the boy. "What about them?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his gaze up to her eyes. "Are any of them... closer than friends to you?"

Haru fluttered her lashes. "Oh, you mean like..." she said once she understood the implication of his question. She tugged the collar of her turtleneck and lowered her head, her sun hat obscuring her face. "Well… they are my dear companions," she said, the surety that was once prevalent in her tone now nowhere to be found. "I consider them — like all of you — my family, so in that way they're closer than friends to me." It was a cop-out response, but she hoped it would convince him. Deep in her heart though she knew the real answer to his question. Within that motley crew called the Phantom Thieves, there was one particular individual she was interested in, a gentleman thief of the highest caliber who had stolen her heart at first sight.

Hearing her response, Hideo's eyes fixed back on the floor. "Oh, okay," he said, the blush that started in his cheeks rising up his face until he was practically red with embarrassment. "I was just curious because…" He swatted the air. "Ah, nevermind. It's a stupid reason."

Observing his reaction, Mizuki put two and two together and cried, "Wait a sec, do you have a crush on oneesama?!"

"Haha! He totally does!" Kagami teased. "Just look at how red his face is getting!"

His complexion had betrayed him. "N-no!" Hideo stuttered as he threw his hands down to his sides. "It's not like that at all! I'm just… I'm just looking out for Haru-sama! There's a lot of scummy guys out there, and one of them is probably just trying to date her to take all her money!"

"That sounds like you, Hideo," Kagami snickered.

"No way! I would never treat Haru-sama like that! She's way too precious to me to do something like that! I would rather…!" His eyes suddenly widened with the realization of what he said.

"He said it!" squealed Yasuo. "Hideo likes Haru-sama! Hideo likes Haru-sama!"

"I wonder if oneesama likes Hideo back?" wondered Mizuki.

Kagami released a boisterous laugh and sang, "Hehehe! I knew you had a crush on Haru-sama! Hideo and Haru sitting in a tree: K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Shut up Kagami! That's not funny!"

As the children began bickering with one another, Haru saw a figure with a slew of grocery bags hanging off her arms hurrying toward them. She blinked with realization as it drew closer. "Oh, that must be Mikami-sama."

Karin Mikami was in her mid-twenties, though the dark bags beneath her eyes aged her at least another ten years. As the children's caretaker, she was always busy making sure they were properly fed, clothed, and handled. It would have been much easier with a few other helping hands, but the Watanabe Orphanage where she worked was small and lacked any kind of funding. For the most part, care of the orphans was a one woman job, and to Mikami's chagrin, that woman happened to be her.

There was a slight waddle in her step as she tried to keep her balance with all the bags on her arms. Cheeks puffed out and expression strained with concentration, she slowly made her way to Haru and the children. Seeing the difficulty she had with holding up those groceries, Haru stood up and helped her by taking several off her hands. With a loud huff, Mikami set down the remaining bags and fell backwards into the bench. "God, I can't believe the nearest grocery store was two kilometers away," she croaked, practically melting in her seat. "My arms are on fire…"

Haru extended an apologetic gaze. "I apologize for not being able to help more. If I knew how much trouble it would be, I would have offered to come with you to the grocery store."

Mikami dismissed the notion with a glib wave of the hand. "Don't even think about it. You've already done more than enough by offering to look after the kids while I went shopping." Staring down at the rambunctious youngsters as they bickered with one another, she asked, "They didn't cause too much trouble for you, yeah?"

"Oh no, not at all," Haru said. "They were absolute angels."

Mikami snorted sharply. "You'll have to forgive me if I doubt that…" Rolling her shoulders until they cracked, she sat up in her seat and called out to the children, "Alright kids, time to say goodbye to Haru. We gotta get home so I can cook you all dinner."

Their attentions turned to the older woman. "What! But we were just starting to have fun!" Mizuki whined. "Please, can we stay just a little longer with Haru-sama?"

"Haru's got other things to do today. We shouldn't bother her any longer," Mikami said. "And besides, you got me! We can all have a ton of fun together when we get home!"

"But Mikami-san is boring," Mizuki complained. "Haru-sama is much more fun!"

Yasuo agreed, "Yeah! I wish you took care of us instead of Mikami, Haru-sama! She's so mean and stingy, she always makes us eat gross vegetables and hardly ever lets us go out into the city!"

"Plus she's super old!" added Kagami. "I once heard in a movie that anyone with lines around their eyes is really old, and Mikami-san has a ton of them!" She tugged on the sides of her eyes to imitate the appearance of crow's feet.

Mikami's veins practically popped out of her forehead. "You ungrateful little brats…"

"Oh my," Haru said, looking over the children. "That isn't very fair to Mikami-sama. She does so much for you, like cook, and clean, and take care of you."

"But you're the only one who actually spends time with us at the orphanage!" Kagami said. "All Mikami-san does is yell and tell us to go to bed, you're way better than her!"

"And you're much prettier than her too," Yasuo said. "Even Hideo thinks so, and he's the oldest so he has to be right!"

Hideo, who had remained uninvolved so far, suddenly jolted with surprise. "Hey! Don't drag me into this!" he exclaimed. "You're the ones who made the hag angry, this isn't my problem!"

There were only so many times she could be called old and ugly before her patience ran out. "Alright, that's it!" Mikami shouted in a stern tone. "Let's go, up and at 'em, up and at 'em! Get off your butts and form a line, we're headed home!" She repeatedly lifted her hands as if she were clearing away a pile of debris with the force of her movement alone.

Seeing the angered state that Mikami was in, the children stopped their clamoring. They formed a single file line from shortest to tallest and waited for further orders before even thinking about moving a single muscle.

Mikami turned to face Haru, her lips forming a weary smile. "Hey Haru, thanks again for looking after the kids," she said, running a hand through her short, black hair. "It really made grocery shopping a lot easier for me. Let me grab you dinner some time. It'll be my treat."

"It's really no problem at all, Mikami-sama," Haru replied. "I wasn't able to make my weekly visit to Watanabe last weekend, so I was more than happy to offer to help today."

"Well, you're a real lifesaver, just remember that." With a thumbs up, Mikami concluded, "Anyway, take care, Haru," and made her way for the Central Street exit, her gaggle of children following like ducklings behind her.

"Bye Haru-sama!" Yasuo waved. "Take care!"

"Come visit soon, Haru-sama!" said Mizumi.

"Yeah, we can't wait to see you again! Especially not Hideo!" said Kagami.

"Sh-shut up Kagami!"

Haru's lips spread into a gentle smile as she watched Mikami and her orphans disappear up Central Street. Sitting back down on the bench, she sighed and closed her eyes. The hardship those poor children suffered was immense. She was sympathetic to their plight — she too knew what it was like to be abandoned by one's parents — but unlike her, they were so young, so little. She hoped the small deeds she performed were enough to lift their moods, even if only for a moment.

As Haru pondered the impact of her actions, she was wholly unaware of the presence of her companion on the other side of the tracks. "Come on, Haru!" Morgana shouted, pacing in frustration. All attempts he had made to get her attention had been in vain. "Just look across the tracks! I'm right here! I'm right…!"

Suddenly Morgana caught sight of someone walking out of the restroom. Brown hair, a black halter vest, and a pleated plaid skirt. It was Makoto! _"Oh thank goodness! I found her!"_ Raising his head high, he turned his attention to his other companion and called out, "Makoto! Hey Makoto! Hey! I'm over here! Can you hear…?"

Yet before he could finish calling out to her, another figure appeared in the side of his vision, this one blonde and beautiful. It approached Haru, then hugged her, then sat down on the bench beside her and began talking. It took only a second for Morgana to recognize it as the light of his life, the fire of his soul: the one and only Ann Takamaki.

Morgana's heart swooned at the very sight of Ann Takamaki. Everything about her was a treasure to behold, her personality, her figure, her smile. If only she knew just how much he cared for her. His love for her was like a great fire that could not be contained, like a powerful flood that could not be stopped. As soon as she appeared, the rest of the world blurred, and his thoughts turned to her alone…

Or at least most of them did. Before Morgana could make his way across the tracks to be with his Lady Ann, he spotted a man in a tan peacoat slip out of an alley. Morgana immediately knew it could have only been one person: Goro Akechi. _"What's he doing here?"_ he thought, watching the detective follow the same trajectory as Makoto. He looked intently at him, then at Makoto, then at Ann, then at Haru. With the sheer number of people he recognized suddenly coming into view, he was indecisive of which one he should focus on. But while Haru and Ann seemed to be chatting by the bench, Makoto and Akira looked like they were leaving up Central Street. He felt his vision being wrenched from side to side like a bone between a pack of hungry dogs.

Torn between joining with following after Makoto and Akechi… or staying with Haru and Lady Ann.

Morgana whined in frustration. "I'd better get a whole plate of sushi for this." With a hesitant peer over his shoulder at the woman of his dreams, he shook his head and looked towards Makoto. He had to go after her and protect her from Akechi. It was the choice a a gentleman thief would have made, he thought, and that was the kind of gentleman he had to be to capture his Lady's heart.

With that, he sprinted up the steps to Central Street and stole away into the fading late-afternoon orange light.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 6:20pm  
Cafe Leblanc**_

Akira was motionless. Covering his mouth with his fist, he asked, "What happened next?"

"I went after them of course!" Morgana said. "I followed them all the way back to Makoto's apartment to see what was going on."

"And that's where you saw Akechi?"

Morgana's little button nose twitched. "Er... Well not exactly..."

Akira quirked a brow. "What does that mean?"

"Well… you know how I said he was at Niijima-san's apartment? I might have been… speculating a little," Morgana said, observing Akira's reaction with an anxious, gauging laugh.

Akira's eyes flattened. "So you didn't see him."

"Th-that's not entirely true!" he stammered. "I saw him exiting the subway behind Makoto!"

"But you didn't see where he went after."

"... No, I didn't." Searching for a way to save face, he continued, "But I'm sure he went to Makoto's apartment! I just know it! The way he was tailing her just out of view... He was definitely up to something sneaky!"

Akira pinched his chin in his hand. It was an odd coincidence that Akechi appeared at the Shibuya station at the same time as Makoto. And it was an even odder coincidence that he exited to Central Street right after she did. But that was all Morgana's conjecture amounted to: coincidence, not proof. Without concrete evidence, Akira couldn't establish Akechi's motive. He was still in the dark about where his allegiance lied. With a slow exhale out his nostrils, he hummed, "I'll talk to Futaba tomorrow and see if anything came up in his phone conversations. Other than that, there's nothing we could do."

Morgana's expression deflated. "I figured as much. If Akechi is planning to betray us, we can't let him know that we're onto him. But it's still lousy that he can just get away with everything he does in the meantime. What if he wiretapped Makoto's apartment? Isn't there anything we can do about it?"

"Sometimes the best choice is to do nothing at all."

"I guess you're right," Morgana said. "It's really hard to turn a blind eye, but if it's for the good of our plan, I guess we have to."

"I'm sorry it has to be like this," Akira replied. "I know it's hard, but we have to stick to the plan." Recollecting his thoughts, he asked, "By the by, you never told me how you ended up back at _Leblanc_. What happened after you followed Makoto back to her apartment?"

"The front door to the complex was locked, so I had to find another way in," Morgana said. "I think I arrived about forty-five minutes after she did. When I finally got there, I scratched like crazy on the door to get her attention." He shook his head with dismay. "Unfortunately, I got her older sister's attention instead."

"And she decided to bring you back to _Leblanc_."

"Right. She recognized me immediately and decided to bring me back in person. I tried my best to get away, but she's got a strong grip!"

It was more likely that he was infatuated by her devilish good looks. "You arrived at _Leblanc_ before she did though."

"That's because I managed to slip out of her grasp while she was answering her phone," Morgana said. "I ran here as quickly as I could to warn you that she was coming. I was going to tell you to hide and pretend like you weren't here." He huffed in disatisfaction. "Little good that did. She ended up seeing you anyway, and what's worse, she actually wants to stick around and drink coffee!"

That was troublesome, Akira thought. Sae Niijima was head of the task force meant to capture the Phantom Thieves, who had been wrongly accused of causing the psychotic breakdowns that plagued Japan of late. Stealing her heart would give them a substantial amount of time to find the true perpetrator of these crimes. Unfortunately, her filial relation to Makoto Niijima, one of their teammates, made infiltrating her Palace a difficult matter. Any kind of negative interaction they had with Sae in the real world would make her cognitive Palace raise its defenses, thus making stealing her heart more difficult...

… But what if they had positive interactions with Sae? Playing with the concept in his head, Akira asked, "Morgana, a person's Palace is their distorted cognitive desires materialized in the Metaverse, correct?"

"Right," Morgana said, and swished his tail. "Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking," Akira began. "When you and Ann opened that door in Madarame's house in the real world, Ryuji and I were able to access a part of his Palace that was previously blocked off in the Metaverse. That happened because Madarame's cognition realized the room he had locked in the real world was not impenetrable as he perceived."

"Mhm," Morgana said. "That barrier we ran into in the Metaverse was linked to the locked room in Madarame's house. By opening that room, we were able to take out the barrier."

"And with Kaneshiro, after he blackmailed us, we were able to reach his Palace in the Metaverse because, in his mind, we became customers and his bank automatically allowed us in."

"Yup, right again."

"We've seen that having negative interactions with an individual in the real world changes their Palace's defenses in the Metaverse. When their guards are up in the real world, they have more Shadows patrolling their Palace. They become more violent towards individuals they perceive as threats." Akira paused for a second to recollect his thoughts. "But what about positive interactions? What if we were to interact positively with an individual with a palace? Could their Palaces accept us, like Kaneshiro's, and allow us to reach areas that were otherwise unaccessible like Madarame's? Or could we even just stroll in through the front doors and sneak our way into the upper levels of the Palace if they didn't perceive us as a threat?"

Morgana hummed lowly, his face wrinkling with thought. "It's not a bad idea," he said. "We know that a person's Palace's reacts to actions performed in the real world, like with the calling cards. But I never thought about interacting positively with an individual to infiltrate their Palace easier. It might work, but I can't be sure."

"In that case, I might as well test out this theory on Niijima-san."

Morgana gaped at Akira in disbelief. "Wait, what?! You're gonna test something like that out on Niijima-san when you don't even know if it'll work?!"

"It could save us a huge amount of time and trouble," Akira reasoned.

"But what if you're wrong! What if getting closer with Niijima-san backfires and makes infiltrating her Palace that much harder! We should talk to the rest of the group before making such a big decision."

In retrospect, Morgana was probably right. It was a gamble, and considering how dire the situation was, taking a risk like that without consulting the rest of the Phantom Thieves would only put their mission in more jeopardy. Looking at the time on the wall, Akira said, "I guess I should be heading down then."

"Try your best not to make Niijima-san angry," Morgana said. "Or happy. Or any emotion at all, really. In fact, limit your interactions with her as much as possible. Just serve her coffee and let her go. The less we have to deal with her, the better."

He nodded. With a final pat on Morgana's head, he headed downstairs.

"Good luck, Joker!" Morgana called out from the comfort of the bed. "I'll be with you in spirit!"

He mentally sighed. Seeing how Ryuji drugged him with those love pills, he was going to need all the luck he could get.

When Akira reached the bottom of the staircase, he noticed Sae sitting in the same position by the bar, legs crossed, eyes scouring the news. It was only after he walked behind the counter that she raised her eyes over her newspaper and looked at him. "You were up there with your cat for quite some time," she said. "What were you two talking about?" Her lips spread into the ghost of a grin as she laid down the newspaper.

" _If only she knew how right she was."_ As Akira walked behind the counter, he glossed over Sae's features, the bow of her pouty lips, the gleam of her amber hues. He felt his attention being absorbed by that captivating gaze, like the world was tunnel visioning around it. He knew she was the enemy, that he shouldn't be attracted to her... But why did the enemy have to be _so damn sexy?_

" _Damn Ryuji and his inability to read labels,"_ Akira mentally cursed. He diverted his sights back to the counter and played Morgana's words over in his head. _"Remember Akira: limit your interactions with her as much as possible. Just serve her coffee and let her go."_ Without looking up at Sae again — even though he very much wanted to — he put on an apron, grabbed a bag of _Leblanc's_ house blend coffee, and started brewing in silence.

Sae didn't notice Akira ogling her. She mistook his eye contact as cursory, superficial. But she did recognize his lack of response to her question. Not like that would stop her from striking up a conversation anyway. "He's a beautiful cat. You're lucky to have him."

He measured a half cup of roasted coffee beans and put them in a bowl.

"I had one too when I was in middle school, but my father didn't let me keep it."

He brought out a frying pan.

"It was a stray, I found it as I passed by an alley on my way home."

He went to the kitchen and turned on the gas stove.

"I figured if it was no one else's I could take it."

He put the pan on the stove and waited for it to heat up.

"When my father came home that day he was furious."

He put water in the pan.

"He told me how foolish I was to bring a stray home."

He put the beans in the pan with the water.

"He told me it was diseased, I told him he was heartless."

He began to stir the beans.

"I told him if he wanted to get rid of my cat, he would have to do it himself."

He turned up the heat on the stove.

"We argued back and forth into the night."

He watched as the beans turned yellow.

"Eventually my mother intervened and calmed us both down."

He watched as the beans turned golden brown.

"She told my father to bring my cat to a shelter."

He watched as the beans turned dark brown.

"He agreed and promised he would in the morning."

He turned off the stove.

"The next day I passed by the same alley on my way home."

He took the pan off the stove.

"My cat was there in that alley, just like the day before."

He poured the beans in a colander.

"My father didn't take it to a shelter, he just put it back on the streets."

He stirred the beans until their chaffes fell off leaving only coffee in the colander.

"I confronted my father when he got home, and I asked him how he could do such a thing."

He poured the coffee in a cup and put the cup in front of Sae.

"He told me it was because that cat didn't belong. It didn't matter where he put it, a shelter, a house, the streets. It would simply never belong."

Sae grasped the handle of the porcelain cup and brought it to her mouth. She felt the lines of heat radiating off its black surface, brushing against her full lips. Delicately she sipped from it, breathed in its earthy aroma, tasted its mild flavor, noted its lack of bitterness. It was far better than she expected. She looked up at Akira. The boy's mouth seemed twisted, as if he were restraining himself from speaking his mind. She had but to lift a brow to coax a response.

"Why did you tell me all that?" Akira asked. "I never asked you in the first place."

Sae stared at Akira's expression. It was staunch and indignant and full of spite. She should have expected this kind of reaction. To him she was the woman who always came by to bully Sojiro into talking. Of course he hated her. Yet in that same expression she could also sense a semblance of interest, an urge to understand her motives. She would gladly satisfy it.

"Because I thought you of all people would know what it's like to be abandoned, Akira Kurusu."

Akira's eyes widened, then tore away from hers. "What do you mean?" he asked, feeling as if he already knew the answer to his question.

She leaned forward, yellow eyes glinting. Her face was predatory but her voice was gentle. "I know about your criminal record."

Akira froze up and stayed silent, perhaps because he was speechless, perhaps because he wanted to hear what else she had to say.

"You assaulted a man as you were walking home one night," Sae said. "A woman who was with him testified that you did so, and two police officers who were in the neighborhood arrested you on the scene. You were found guilty on the spot without ever going to court." Sae's lips cambered into a shadowy grin, almost as if she enjoyed seeing the look of uncomfort that slowly unfurled over his face. "How am I doing?"

Pretty well, Akira thought but didn't vocalize. Except for the part where it was all a lie.

"If this were any other person, I would have left it as is. It's an open and shut case after all, the violent outburst of an adolescent delinquent." A slight pause as Sae took another sip of her coffee. "But I gave you the benefit of the doubt and decided to dig deeper."

Akira stared at her stunned. She believed in his innocence? "Why?" was all he could muster.

"Because you're friends with Makoto, and I knew if she trusted you, I could too."

He was shocked by her honesty.

"It turned out my instincts were correct," Sae said. "As I looked more into your background, I realized you never had a history of violence. You didn't even have a single infraction to your name. Up until that moment you were an upstanding Japanese citizen with a bright future. So why did you throw it all away?"

"The next step was inferring your motive. What made you attack that man? It wasn't substance induced aggression, all the drug screens came up negative. It also wasn't malicious intent, because neither the woman or man knew who you were before the incident. The only logical conclusion I could draw was that something triggered you to assault him. But as I said earlier, you didn't have a history of violence. So what could have prompted it?"

"That's when I looked into the woman who testified against you. Otome Hanasaki, age thirty-two, unmarried, an accountant at Takayama Mutual. She had four charges filed against her for the embezzlement of corporate funds, but all of them were dropped. It seemed someone higher up had ordered a cease and desist. I tried to figure out who it was that gave the order, but the trail ended there."

"What was curious about this however was how the charges were all brought up and then dropped within several months of one another. This either meant multiple high government officials had a stake in Takayama Mutual — which is rather unlikely considering how small the firm is — or one individual was covering for her repeatedly. If the latter were the case, that would mean Otome knew this man intimately."

"Then I thought back to the man who you assaulted. He wasn't given a name, an age, an identity, nothing. There was absolutely no information on him in the entire report. That kind of anonymity isn't given in assault cases where an assailant like you has no previous history of violence. It only happens when the individual who was assaulted cannot be revealed for the sake of their own safety, or when he or she is so high up that they erase their involvement in the incident entirely. Seeing as it was highly unlikely to be the former, I concluded the latter might have been the case."

"Once I made that assumption, I took all the evidence I had gathered and observed it under a lens. First, Otome Hanasaki's guardian angel, the person who pulled the charges for her cases, was anonymous in her report. Second, the man who you assaulted was also given complete anonymity. Third, Otome was the only person on the scene who could testify to your guilt. Fourth, you had no history of violence or previous infractions. And fifth, there was no recognizable motive for you other than a spur of the moment reaction."

"Normally if only two or three of these points partially line up, it can be dismissed as coincidence. But having all five points line up as well as they do, and taking into account my assumptions that the man in your case was a high ranking individual who erased their involvement in the case and that Otome Hanasaki knew her guardian angel personally — there's only one logical conclusion you could draw from all this."

"You didn't mindlessly assault the man like it says you did in the report. There might have been something he was doing that you didn't agree with, and you saw that and tried to stop it. Maybe you got in a tussle with him, or maybe you just accidentally knocked him over. Whatever happened, you angered him in some way, shape, or form through your actions."

"Furthermore, I concluded that the mark on your criminal record was far too significant for a simple case of petty assault, so the man you assaulted must have been a high ranking individual. And if we assume Otome had one high ranking benefactor who was constantly bailing her out of those embezzlement charges, a benefactor she personally knew, we can assume that the anonymous man in your case was also the anonymous individual in Otome's cases. Because this man and Otome were so well acquainted, he either told her to testify against you, or she did so out of her own volition because she was afraid that if the man were brought in for questioning, the details surrounding her embezzlement cases might also come to light."

"So instead she told the officers you assaulted the man, he walked away without having to be questioned, and the case was settled without ever needing to go to court. No one's dirty laundry was aired out, and all parties lived happily ever after. That is, except for you. You were abandoned."

Sae laid all of this out to Akira between intermittent sips of coffee. Her words were carefully chosen, and her eye contact was held strictly on his face. It was like she was in a courtroom giving a debriefing to the jury.

Akira had been rendered speechless by the end of it. Her detective work was flawless. Every assumption she made was logical, every conclusion correct. She knew the nuances of the case better than he did, and he was the one who actually experienced it. He could understand why she was considered one of Japan's top prosecutors. Drunk with listener fatigue, he leaned into the counter and uttered a single word of response. "Wow."

A bitter smirk played across Sae's countenance. "It isn't fair, is it? Being labeled by others when they don't know the truth?"

He couldn't have agreed with her more. And that was exactly what made this conversation so odd. Wasn't she the Phantom Thieves' enemy? Didn't they have to infiltrate her Palace? Why was it that she seemed so put together compared to their other targets? She wasn't an unhinged sociopath like Kamoshida, or a pathological liar like Madarame, or an underground crime lord like Kaneshiro. She was a prosecutor, and a damn good one at that. An intelligent, determined, beautiful, gorgeous prosecutor...

" _Dammit, Ryuji."_ Akira gradually returned to thoughts of Sae that were less carnal in nature, like why she was trying to connect with him. Did he have something she wanted? Or was he a piece to some plan she concocted? He knew that since she had a Palace, she had distorted desires too. Could it be possible that she was wearing a mask for him and hiding her true intentions? Or could he be mistaken in believing that all Palace owners' desires were inherently twisted and malignant? There was so much to the Metaverse he still didn't understand after all.

Maybe Sae was an exception.

"You're right," Akira replied. "It isn't."

"And even if you do tell them the truth, they don't believe it," Sae said.

"That or they don't want to hear it," he said.

"Of course not. It's easier to hate a bogeyman than it is to empathize with a normal person like you or me who just made a simple mistake."

The heaviness that formed in Akira's chest felt like a millstone. "There's a saying my parents told me as a child, good things happen to good people. I want to believe it's true. But when you see all the terrible things that happen to good people every day, it's hard."

Sae rested her chin on her palm and her elbow on the bar top. "It doesn't matter how good or bad you are. It's always the people in power who get what they want. The rest of us are there to pick up the scraps they leave behind."

"I wish it didn't have to be that way," Akira said.

"Unfortunately that's the cycle of life," Sae said. "The strong consume the weak, and the weak do nothing but suffer."

"Is that why you became a prosecutor?" Akira asked. "To break the cycle?"

Sae sneered. "I became a prosecutor because it paid well and I had to support my family."

"That's all?"

"Mhm. If you're looking for a story about a young, beady eyed girl with a misaligned sense of justice who vowed to change the justice system, you're going to be disappointed." She finished her coffee and set down the cup, her eyes passing over its porcelain features. "Maybe there was a time I lied to myself and said that was the case, but I know better now. The system is broken."

He sensed a longstanding resentment in her voice. "Isn't there anything you can do to fix it?"

"If it were something that could be fixed, it would have been a long time ago," Sae said. "The corruption in the government — the House of Councilors, the judicial system, the House of Representative — it's spread too deep. Nothing I do will even make a dent in it."

"Have you tried?"

Sae thinned her gaze. "Have you tried swallowing the ocean?" Akira shook his head. "Of course not, because it's impossible. Likewise, you can't just root out corruption in the government by trying hard. These aren't petty criminals you're convicting, these are powerful, high ranking officials, the elites of society. You need to build a solid case against them, gather evidence, find witnesses who aren't scared to death of testifying. That alone takes years. By the time you're ready to go to court, the corruption you tried to stop has already spread, and you're left putting out fires on houses that've already burned down."

"Sure you might be able to prove someone's guilt, have them lose face. You might even get them removed from the Diet. But more often than not, they're just a scapegoat for someone higher up. The cycle of corruption will continue, and all that work you put in will be for nothing. Absolutely nothing." For the briefest of moments, she shed her exterior of invulnerability and sighed. A deep, heart wrenching, soul crushing sigh. "Like I said, it's impossible."

Akira's eyes dipped sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how hard it was."

"No one does," Sae said, focusing on the legs of her chair. "That's why everyone thinks prosecutors are corrupt, complacent, useless at our jobs. Because we can't put these untouchables away."

"But it's not your fault," Akira said. "It's the system that's corrupt, not you."

"Right. But you said it yourself Akira, people don't care about the truth. They don't want to hear it. They just give you a label and move on, because it's easier that way." She lifted her gaze and looked straight into his eyes. "You know better than anyone else how that feels."

The hairs on the back of Akira's neck stood on end. It was eerie how much of Sae he saw in himself. She was another outcast, vilified and abandoned, thrust into a world that did not want her, conferred responsibilities she did not ask for. But whereas he had friends to support him, to pull him up whenever he fell, Sae did not.

She was utterly alone.

Akira studied that empty look on her face, the one that spoke to years of solitude, and pain, and misunderstanding. And then, for the first time that night, he didn't see Sae Niijima as the enemy whose distorted desires the Phantom Thieves had to fix. He saw her as a woman. His gaze softened, and his lips broke into a smile. "I hope one day people realize how much they misjudged you, Sae."

Sae blinked. She had not expected that response from him. Seeing a warmth of his complexion, her lips unconsciously pulled into a small smile of their own. "Thank you. I hope the same goes for you."

Akira took off his apron. He rounded the other side of the counter and sat in the chair next to Sae. At this proximity he could smell her perfume, citrusy and sweet, yet not to the point of cloying. He was drawn to it like he was drawn to her, in a curious, apprehensive sort of way. "How was the coffee?"

Sae looked down at the empty cup, then back up at Akira. "I drank it all, didn't I?"

"You could have just been being polite."

"I could have." She smirked. "No, but if it were bad, you would know."

"How so?"

"I would have slapped a subpoena on the receipt."

Akira almost laughed out loud. "You wouldn't."

A playful glimmer shined in Sae's eye. "I've sued for less."

"And I've made my fair share of prison breaks," Akira countered with a sly smile.

"When exactly?" Sae asked, entertaining the thought. "Between the museum pilferages and the bank heists?"

"Don't forget the castle plundering."

"Of course, I forgot I was dealing with a master thief. I suppose you know how to pick locks as well?"

"What kind of master thief doesn't?"

"Then I suppose when I take you in, I'll have to cuff you myself and throw away the key." Sae pushed the hair out of her eyes and offered him a coquettish grin.

Akira's face tingled with excitement. Maybe it was just the drugs, but he could have sworn she was flirting with him. He swallowed inaudibly and traced the contours of those plush, curved lips, fighting the onset of a blush.

"In actuality, it was very good coffee," Sae said, returning to his question. "Sojiro should be proud for hiring such a competent barista."

"Being hired would imply that I was being paid, "Akira said.

"Ah, so you're an 'unpaid intern,'" Sae said. "That's Sojiro for you, a heart of gold underneath a mountain of frugality. Does he at least let you drink coffee for free?"

"Only once I've finished a shift."

Sae chuckled. "At least he's gotten better about that. Before he didn't let his workers have any."

"Before?" Akira asked.

"Two years ago, when he first opened _Leblanc_ ," Sae said. "He had about as many customers then as he does now."

"I didn't know you came to _Leblanc_ ," Akira said.

"I don't now. But back then I did, usually on weekday nights after work. It was always quiet, but that's what I liked about it. I could sit by the bar, finish a few crosswords, and enjoy the house blend without any disturbances." Sae stared into the bottom of her cup, gazing at those elusive, nostalgic moments. "As I started getting promoted at work, I had less time to visit. Eventually I stopped coming altogether." Her brows knitted and she shook her head with disappointment. "It was especially a shame because of how close I used to be with Sojiro."

Akira's face opened with surprise. "You used to be close with Sojiro?"

Sae nodded. "I've known him since I was a child, back when he was still a House representative in the Diet. My father was friends with him and invited him over every other week for dinner. He always brought curry. It wasn't as good as it now, but I think he was still perfecting it."

It was curious to imagine Sojiro when he was younger. "What was he like back then?" Akira asked, leaning into the counter on his forearms.

"About the same as he is now. Stubborn, sometimes harsh. But he had a soft spot for children. He'd always bring a gift for me whenever came by. Sometimes it was chocolate, sometimes it was a toy. It always made me smile." She paused for a moment to cherish the memory.

"He was much more of a Casanova, though," Sae said. "I remember whenever my family went to visit his house, there'd be a different woman inside each time. I didn't understand as a child, I just thought he had a lot of sisters."

" _So he wasn't lying about being a ladies man."_ Akira grinned and ran a hand through his black hair. "I can't believe you knew him as a child."

"It's a small world," Sae smiled. Her face suddenly dropped, as if she'd just come to the truth of a matter. "But as I mentioned, we've grown apart. It's my fault it happened. After my father passed away, I stopped visiting Sojiro at his home. I'd come by _Leblanc_ , but it wasn't the same. The conversations we had always felt stilted and forced. We never talked about my father. And then when I stopped coming to _Leblanc_ , we stopped having conversations altogether. There were no farewells or goodbyes or see you laters. We just didn't talk anymore."

A solemn silence fell over the cafe. Akira looked over at Sae, whose gaze was set upon the empty space before her. He chose not to say anything, it wasn't his place to. He allowed her time to reflect by herself until she was ready to speak again.

"Akira," Sae said after about a minute of quiet. "I know you don't enjoy my being here or anything about me, but I have a request to ask of you."

Perhaps before today Sae's words would have been true, but after seeing this gentler side of her, Akira's heart had unhardened. "What is it?"

She looked over at him, her brows tight, her eyes compassionate. "Please look after Makoto for me."

His brows immediately furrowed. "What?"

"You didn't deserve having your future ruined by that case on your criminal record," Sae said. "You're a good person, I can tell. So can Makoto. That's why she talks about you so often, why she looks up to you. She says you've been a good influence on her life, and I can see it in her eyes that it's true. But Makoto's had a hard life, and not many good influences." Her chest tightened and she felt her breath stifle for a moment in her throat. "That's why I'm asking you to look after her, as a friend. I know after everything I've done to Sojiro, I have no right to ask this of you. But Makoto is my little sister, and I love her more than anything in the world."

Akira was humbled by Sae's appeal. "I… look… of course," he said, unable to properly form the words to describe how he felt. "Makoto's one of my best friends. Of course I'll look after her."

A great weight lifted from Sae's countenance. "Thank you," she said. "I appreciate it more than you'll ever know."

Akira nodded to showed he understood. Still, he had one lingering question. "What did you mean earlier? When you said Makoto didn't have many good influences?"

Sae felt the lump in her throat return. "The only other person Makoto has ever looked up to was our father," she began. "But he wasn't always the man she remembered. He was a very different person before our mother passed away. He was harsh, strict, jaded." She inhaled softly through her nostrils. "Makoto was too young to remember that side of him, and I never bring it up when I'm around her. She doesn't need to know that it took our mother dying for him to realize he wasn't a good man. "

It was appalling for Akira to hear that. The way Makoto spoke about her father, the reverence she held in her tone whenever he came up in a conversation, Akira assumed he was a paragon of virtue. Yet to hear from Sae that there was a darker side to him, one that even Makoto wasn't aware of…

As Akira ruminated on what she had told him, Sae turned back towards the counter. A beep emitted from her handbag. It was her phone. Taking out the device, she saw that she had a new text. She put in her password, swiped, and read the contents of the message.

Her face immediately grew pale. She stared at the text for a long time, her face filled with horror but not disbelief. Then she looked up at Akira. She held her gaze on him for several seconds, as if she were analyzing him. Then she looked back at the text. After a few more seconds, she wordlessly put the phone back in her bag and straightened in her seat.

"Akira, how familiar are you with the Phantom Thieves?"

Akira blinked his eyes back into focus. "Huh?" was his only response, half-confused, half-concerned. Where was this question coming from?

"How well do you know them?" Sae asked again.

Her face was different than before. It was sharper, stricter. Akira could tell something was on her mind. "As well as anyone else. I hear about them on time on television talk shows."

"So how familiar are you with them?"

His brows grooved. "Like I said, I've heard about them on television talk…"

"Akira," Sae repeated one final time, her eyes locked solely on his. All traces of the upbeat smile that once colored her complexion had vanished. A hollow stare took its place, and it bore a hole through Akira's visage. She asked her question again, and his face fell with terrible understanding as she intonated each word of it with meticulous, dreadful care.

"How familiar are you with the Phantom Thieves?"

* * *

 _ **October 30, 6:30pm  
Big Bang Burger**_

The outlandish names of the menu items, the larger-than-life portion sizes, the marquee-esque store sign that flashed a cache of yellow and orange lights with such constancy one would have thought they didn't have an off switch — everything about Big Bang Burger was subtle as a punch to the gut. Adults hardly ever ate here. They considered the heavy stench of grease and the childish outer space theme too uncouth for their tastes. That was probably what made it the perfect place for loud, unruly teenagers like Ryuji.

Sliding into one of the empty booths, Ryuji wore a large, ear-to-ear grin across his visage. "Man, I can't wait to dig into one of these burgers!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together like a miser. Casting Yusuke a glance from across the table, he grinned, "Yo, thanks for taggin' along with me. I really appreciate it dude."

Yusuke nodded with a grandeur unbefitting of his surroundings. "No need to extend such gratitudes, Sakamoto-san. I too was interested in coming to Big Bang Burger." He wiped away several spatterings of leftover crumbs on the table with his napkin and crossed his right leg over his left. "I had heard this restaurant served a burger the size of a moon. For the sake of expanding my horizons, I decided I had to see it for myself."

"Oh yeah, that's the Moon Burger you're talkin' about," Ryuji said. "I think it's a challenge they have here."

Yusuke tweaked a brow. "Challenge?"

"You know, like an eating challenge," Ryuji explained. "For five-hundred yen they cook you up a massive burger! And if you can finish it in under thirty minutes, you get the chance to eat an even bigger burger the next time you take the challenge!"

"So for finishing the meal you purchased," Yusuke restated, "Your reward is the opportunity to purchase another meal?"

"Yeah! Isn't it totally sweet?"

He held his chin in deep thought. "How curious."

A shapely girl with long red hair and a white apron stopped by their table. Setting a menu in front of each of them, she introduced, "Welcome to Big Bang Burger! My name is Keiko, I'll be your waitress for tonight. Can I get you two anything to drink besides water? Soda? Iced tea?"

Ryuji looked up at the girl and grinned. "I'll take a Mad Bull."

"Water is fine for me," Yusuke said.

"Okay! One Mad Bull for you, and one water for you! Be right back!" She wrote their orders down on her notepad and, with a polite bow, excused herself from their presence.

As she walked away, Ryuji leaned out of the booth to ogle her. "Dammmmn," he whistled once she had disappeared from sight. "That Keiko girl sure is a dime. If she looks that smokin' in a Big Bang Burger uniform, just imagine what she looks like in regular clothes. She's definitely model material."

Yusuke agreed. "She is rather appealing to the eyes."

Ryuji's gaze thinned over his friend. "Seriously? 'Appealing to the eyes'?" he deadpanned. "What kinda artsy fartsy jargon is that?"

"It is the way I would describe how her appearance makes me feel," Yusuke said.

"You ever think of calling a girl hot? Or sexy? Or any term that doesn't also describe a painting?"

"I have never had to use such language to describe my feelings for a woman."

"Huh?" Ryuji sat forward. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I have never thought of a girl as attractive in that way."

He could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Wait, so you're saying you've never been like… attracted to a girl? At all? Not even once?"

"I cannot say I have," Yusuke admitted. "The closest I have been to being attracted to a woman is Takamaki-san, who I find very visually pleasing. Yet that is merely aesthetic attraction, I have never harbored any feelings for her on a physical level. I pursued her before only because I found her figure and complexion appropriate for my upcoming composition, nothing more, nothing less."

Ryuji stared at Yusuke with intense surprise, as if he had just revealed a dark secret to him. His face was a mixture of the shock one felt after receiving a call from the hospital notifying that a family member had passed away and the confusion of receiving yet another call apologizing that they had accidentally dialed the wrong number. "I… didn't know you didn't like girls, Yusuke." In retrospect it made sense with how he dressed, how he was so good at talking to girls, how he wanted to paint Akira naked...

Hearing the tone of Ryuji's voice, Yusuke let out a soft harrumph. "If you are insinuating that I am interested in males, I can assure you that that is not the case either." Gliding a hand through his midnight blue locks, he asserted, "Beyond using them as models for my artwork, they are not attractive to me in the slightest. Like women, I find them only interesting to an aesthetic degree."

Now Ryuji was hopelessly confused. Yusuke just confessed he wasn't physically attracted in Ann Takamaki, the most gorgeous girl on this side of the Shinano. But then he just said he wasn't attracted to guys either? "So in that case… what are you interested in?"

"I am an artist, Ryuji. I am interested in art."

Ryuji's paused. "So... you're not gay?"

"No."

"... And you're not interested in girls?"

"No."

"... And you don't think Ann is sexy, like not even a little bit?"

Yusuke's lips squeezed together. This exchange was going nowhere. "How about you, Ryuji?" he asked to divert the conversation. "Is there anyone you are interested in?"

Ryuji blinked. "Huh? Me?" Coughing into his fist, he stumbled over his words, "Ah, psh, hah! Well… Yeah! You know, tons of girls. Like I was just sayin', that Keiko girl is totally drop dead sexy."

"I was referring to romantic interest."

He was taken aback by the bluntness of his question. "Oh…" Ryuji said, looking away from Yusuke. "I mean… there's this one girl I think I like… But it's nothing serious. I just think she's cool, that's all."

"Yes, I believe you mentioned during our truth or dare last night that you were interested in someone from your school," Yusuke said. "A crush, you called it."

Ryuji's face began to feel warm with embarrassment. "Well when you put it like that…"

"Who is it you have a crush on, Sakamoto-san?"

That warmth suddenly multiplied tenfold. "W-woah! You can't just ask me a question like that out of the blue dude!"

"Why not?" Yusuke asked, his head cocked.

"Because… That's like a sensitive issue, y'know? I can't just go around sharing that kind of information. What if you tell everyone!"

Yusuke made a puzzled expression. "What would I gain by revealing your affections?"

Ryuji tried to find a plausible answer to his question. "Maybe you'd swoop in on the girl I was interested in…?"

"I already told you I am not interested in women in that way, Sakamoto. And even if I were, I would never do something as dishonorable as attempt to steal your muse from you." Yusuke leaned back in the booth and placed his clasped hands on his lap. "I only broached the subject because I wished to better understand your feeling."

Ryuji relented with a deep, shoulder slouching sigh. "If you really wanna know… it's someone in our group."

"You mean the Phantom Thieves."

"Yeah."

Yusuke paused for a moment to consider the possibilities. "Is it Takamaki-san?" he finally asked.

Ryuji stared at him wide-eyed. "What! No way man, there's no way I'd be interested in Ann like that! We've been friends since grade school, she basically like a sister to me."

"Then who is it?"

He grasped onto the back of his neck and looked away. "It's uh… it's someone else."

Yusuke sensed the reticence in Ryuji's body language and did not pry further. Instead, he approached the topic from a different angle. "What is it about this person that you're attracted to?"

Ryuji's eyes returned to Yusuke. Bringing his hands to the table, he opened up, "I guess for starters, she's beautiful. And I'm not talking about the hot or sexy type of beautiful. I mean the type that makes your chest hurt, y'know? The type that makes you feel dizzy just looking at 'em."

Yusuke followed along quietly, his silence an invitation for Ryuji to keep speaking.

"She's incredibly smart too, definitely the smartest girl at Shujin. At first I was kinda jealous that she was always at the top of the class, but then I realized how hard she studies for her grades compared to me. She goes to the library pretty much every day to review class notes, and I can barely get my ass off the couch to prepare for midterms."

"You admire her tenacity," said Yusuke.

Ryuji nodded. "Damn right I do. She puts her all into everything she does, especially her duties as a Phantom Thief. Not only does she try her hardest during every infiltration, she has this look in her eyes when we're in the Metaverse, this really fiery look, like all she wants to do is get rid of the bad guys and make the world a better place. She's not doing any of this for fame or fortune or to live some kind of power fantasy, she's just a genuinely good person who wants to help others." He paused and stared down at his arms, which laid crossed upon the table. "Looking back at it, I think I realized I liked her when we were confronting Kaneshiro together. The look on her face, the tone of her voice… She was so passionate about stopping him, about getting justice for all those kids he screwed over. I got goosebumps just thinking about it."

Yusuke continued to silently note each of Ryuji's remarks.

"But y'know, it's crazy when I think about how different we are, actually," Ryuji chuckled. "She's smart, I'm a dunce, she's organized, I'm a mess, she's the student council president, and I'm just the class delinquent. We're world's apart." A sigh, followed by a solemn shake of his head. "But damn, what I'd give for a chance to go on a date with her."

After hearing all Ryuji had to say, Yusuke covered a thoughtful hand over his mouth. "Have you tried pursuing one with her?" he asked.

"What, a date?" Ryuji flicked his wrist and scoffed. "Pffft. There's no way she'd go on a date with me. She's way out of my league." His expression suddenly held a deep sadness as he averted his gaze to his wrists. "Besides… she's interested in someone else."

Yusuke knew that look from a mile away. Unrequited love, he thought, the infinite curse of a lonely heart. "Have you spoken to her about your feelings?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't think you understand the situation dude. She likes someone else, and that someone happens to be my best friend. I can't just go and tell her how I feel."

"Why not?"

"Because that would be totally uncool! I mean, didn't you say you'd never try to steal away a guy's girl? The same goes for me. I couldn't do that to Akira, it just wouldn't be right."

"Well, do you know if Akira interested in her?"

Ryuji blinked. "I actually don't. I never really asked him. I just assumed that because she liked him, he also liked her back."

"Perhaps you should bring up this matter with Akira and see if that's the case."

Thinking over Yusuke's words for a moment, Ryuji agreed with renewed vigor, "You know what, you're right! I should talk to Akira and see if he likes her too. I mean, worst-case scenario I'm just back to where I am now, but otherwise I have a chance at getting together with her! Right?"

"Correct."

Ryuji leaned forward in his seat and smiled. "Dang Yusuke, for a guy who's not into girls, you're really good at figuring out how to go about romancing them."

He didn't think common sense was a commendable quality to have, but he accepted the compliment nonetheless. "I am glad I was able to help."

Ryuji felt refreshed after unloading his feelings onto Yusuke. He hadn't thought of Yusuke as a confidant in the past, but this conversation framed him in a new light. He was a good listener, he didn't judge, and it seemed like he had a good idea of how to go about talking to girls. Maybe this could be the start of something beautiful.

Spotting Keiko as she walked back to their table, Ryuji passed Yusuke a sly glance. "Hey, think you could give me tips on how to charm this one too?"

Yusuke released a put-upon sigh. "You have yet to even charm your crush."

"Aw come on! You gotta have something for me. A snappy one-liner? A mushy quote? I mean, just look at her! She's a total babe! We can't let this opportunity slip away!"

"I will have nothing to do with your shallow attempt to court our waitress."

"Well, boo to you too," Ryuji sneered. Looking up at Keiko as she stopped beside them, Ryuji's face brightened with a wily grin. "Two Moon Burger challenges, and hold off on the sugary drinks. You're sweet enough as is, gorgeous."

Yusuke sighed. Maybe he should have given him a one-liner after all.

* * *

 _ **October 30, 6:43pm  
Shinjuku**_

Shinjuku was home to Japan's busiest railway station, and for good reason. Neon lights and stunning sights were the ward's signature draws. People all across Tokyo came to experience its one-of-a-kind nightlife, flush with twenty-four seven department stores and the wildest red light district in the country.

While the latter was something they adamantly avoided, Ann and Haru found their money's worth in the city's sprawling subterranean malls. From clothing boutiques to bakeries to everyday emporiums, they left no store unvisited. They were fully drained by the time they finished their shopping spree. Stopping to rest at one of the underground food plazas, the duo shed their possessions and collapsed into a pair of empty seats.

"Phew!" Ann exhaled, sinking into a plastic folding chair. "I'm totally beat. I didn't think there'd be so many good deals today!"

Haru lounged with a graceful, straight-backed posture. "It was quite surprising how much we were able to purchase with just ten thousand yen each."

"Right? Those prices were out of this world," Ann said, pushing her tousled platinum hair out of her eyes. Snapping her fingers, she started up again, "Oh, that reminds me! Thanks for waiting for me at the Shibuya station. I totally forgot I had to swing by my apartment to sign for a package. I managed to get back just in time, so everything worked out, but I feel bad for making you wait."

"It was no problem at all," Haru said. "Coincidentally I had business to take care of in Shibuya as well, so it all worked out."

"Ooo, what kind of business?" Ann asked.

Haru's eyes shined with remembrance as her gaze fell to the violin case at her side. "Oh... I was meeting with some other friends of mine. I hadn't visited them in two weeks, so they were very excited to see me."

"Oh, that's great!" Ann cheered. "I'm kind of amazed the timings worked out as well as they did. We managed to get to Shinjuku right before rush hour and hit up all the stores before all the good deals were gone. And good thing, too. All this Phantom Thievery has really put a hole in my wallet." She patted her front pocket as if to imply its emptiness.

The sides of Haru's lips dimpled. She locked her ankles beneath the table, her legs pressed together and her knees pointing right. "I could hardly keep up with you Ann. You were so excited by all those sales, you flew right out of my sight as soon as we arrived at Shinjuku."

Ann hung her head with a sheepish grin. "Oh yeah, sorry about that. Sometimes I can get a little carried away. My mom tells me I have shop 'til you drop syndrome."

"Yes, I believe you mentioned it last night as well," Haru said. "What a curious phrase, 'shop 'til you drop.' I never heard such an expression before meeting you."

"My mom came from the States, so I picked up some American lingo from her," Ann said. "But apparently the malls over there are crazy. People are constantly cutting each other in line or fighting over clothes, it's total chaos."

"Oh my..." Haru said, covering her mouth. "That certainly doesn't sound like proper mall etiquette. I doubt I would ever shop in America if all the malls were truly like that..."

"Huh?" Ann blinked, leaning forward in her seat. "What are you saying, Haru! You can't be thinking about proper etiquette when it comes to discounts!" A passionate glimmer shined in Ann's eyes as she folded her arms over her chest. "Just because those kinds of things happen in America doesn't mean they can't happen here too! No one's going to play fair, so you have to do whatever it takes to get that half-off summer blouse before anyone else does, or those buy one get one free high heels!"

Haru tittered at her friend's excitement. "I think it would be best to leave such matters to you. I've never been good at being assertive."

"But what if it's something you really want?" Ann asked. "Like a one of a kind necklace, or an amazing new dress, and there's only one left in the whole store and someone else grabs it before you?"

"Then I'll ask the manager to put one on hold for me and wait until they've restocked the item," Haru said.

"But that defeats the whole purpose of shopping 'til you drop!" Ann whined.

"Oh... Well, maybe I could use a different motto then, like shopping until you're satisfied with what you have!"

Ann laid her crossed arms on the table and slumped forward with a short, "Hmph." She quietly thought to herself for a moment before speaking up again. "I feel like such a kid compared to you, Haru."

Haru's head canted sideways. "What makes you say that?"

"You're so quiet and composed all the time, like nothing ever bothers you," Ann said. "I feel like I'm always running my mouth and complaining about everything, like an immature little kid."

She was amused at the compliment. "Ah... thank you very much, Ann, but I can assure you I can be just as immature and childish as anyone. It just so happens that you catch me in my more composed moments..."

"Psh. I can't imagine you acting childish about anything. I mean, you're basically the owner of Okumura Foods now, you're a serious big shot!"

Haru's gaze lowered. The mere mention of Okumura Foods still had a sore taste in her mouth. She had become the majority shareholder of the company after inheriting her late father's shares, yet that meant nothing to her. She would give them all back if that meant seeing him again. "I suppose..." she whispered, fingering the sleeve of her turtleneck.

Ann could tell by Haru's sudden shift in demeanor that she had said something wrong. "Oh shit," she cursed in realization. "Haru, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up."

Haru shook her head. "It's okay. I've already come to terms with his passing. My father was... a terrible man. He abused his power over his family and employees to do whatever he pleased, including hurting others..." Her face dropped. "But I still miss him. Even if he was a liar and a swindler, he was still my father. And I'll never be able to see him again..."

"Haru…"

"I know it was never the Phantom Thieves' intention to harm him, so please don't think that I hold a grudge towards any of you. My only grievances are against the people who took my father's life..." Haru's fists blanched on her knees as she began to grow misty-eyed. "When I find them, I will make them wish they had never crossed me."

The chilling anger in Haru's eyes caught Ann off guard. It was a side of her she hadn't seen before. Still, she held a caring gaze towards her friend. "I'm so sorry Haru. I feel your pain. Just know that if you ever need anything — really, anything at all — I'm only one call away. Okay?" She leaned across the table and put her hand comfortingly on Haru's shoulder.

Haru knuckled the corners of her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "It means so much to know I have friends like you who are looking out for me..." Her lips broke into a muted smile as she reached up to hold Ann's hand. "I know it's silly of me to say, but I really do miss him..."

"It's not silly at all," Ann said, thumbing a circle on the back of Haru's hand. "Would you like to talk about him? Your father?"

Haru's lids brimmed with the onset of tears. "I miss him so much... It feels like the whole world has moved on without me. Whenever I see my father's friends, they smile and bow and ask me how my day was... But none of them mention him. They go about their days like usual, as if nothing had ever happened. It's like they've forgotten all about him."

"That's terrible," Ann murmured. "I can't believe they're being so cold."

"I can," Haru said, "My father's friends were never really his friends... I saw it whenever they came over for dinner, always nodding along, agreeing to everything he said. They never actually listened to him. They just wanted to seem like they were interested in what he had to say. I think my father suspected that was the case, but he didn't want to believe it was true. He wanted to think that there were still people who wanted to spend time with him for who he was, not because of his money... But I knew better. I could tell when someone only wanted to be friends with me because of my family's wealth."

"That must have been really hard for you."

"It was. I never knew who I could trust when I was younger. To be frank, I still have a hard time trusting people today..." Haru blinked, and several tears dripped from her eyes onto her downy cheeks. "And yet I felt like I could trust you, and Akira, and everyone else right away. When I met you all in the Metaverse, I could tell you were good, honest people. You were all so noble and moral... so much more than me..." She closed her eyes and the tears began to stream, slowly, steadily.

"It's okay, it's okay," Ann soothed. "You're a good person too, you know. You care about others so much and you're so kind to everyone. I can't think of a single person who doesn't like you."

"That's not true," Haru said, trying to dash away her tears. "I'm not a good person. I'm spoiled, and selfish... and I'm the reason my father is..." A single, throaty cry escaped her lips, and she bit down to silence it. "I'm the reason my father is dead."

A frown line delved between Ann's brows."How could you ever think that Haru? You had nothing to do with your father's death."

"It was my fault the Phantom Thieves got involved in the first place. If I had just obeyed him and married Sugimura, he would still be..."

"Sugimura was a horrible man," Ann interjected. "Wanting to get out of that relationship doesn't make you a bad person, Haru. It makes you sane."

"But even still... I didn't want to change my father's heart for any reason other than to nullify my marriage to Sugimura. I heard about all the awful rumors of how he treated his employees, but I didn't protest at all. I willingly allowed him to get away with it. I was so selfish..."

Ann tightened her grip on Haru's hand. "That might have been you in the past, but that definitely isn't you now. If you never leave that past self behind, you'll always be stuck chasing demons that no longer exist."

Haru looked up to meet Ann's eyes. They were wide and full of sincerity. Taking in a deep breath, she dried her eyes on her forearm and collected herself. "Yes... I have to keep moving forward. For my sake and for my father's."

"That's exactly right," Ann said, smiling. "I know it's hard, and it doesn't just get easier overnight, but you have all of us. We'll be there for you every step of the way." She reached down for her purse and pulled out a packet of disposable napkins, the kind that mothers always had to clean up their kids' messes. She ripped off the plastic and passed them over to Haru. "Here."

Haru took a napkin from Ann and blew her nose into it. "Thank you," she said when she was finished, neatly folding it in halves until it was the size of a Post-it. "... And thank you so much for listening. I'm lucky to have a friend like you."

"Ah, it's nothing," Ann said, her teeth gleaming in a grin. "I know you'd do the same for me."

The two sat in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other's company. They listened to the hustle of the plaza around them, the jeers of vendors, the whirrs of machines. Everything seemed so removed, like they were watching a movie of their surroundings. It was surprisingly peaceful.

A few moments later, Ann broke the quiet with a question. "Hey Haru," she said, her expression captured in deep thought. "Can I ask you something?"

Haru glanced over at Ann. "Ah, of course. What is it?"

"Well, I was just wondering..." Ann began. "Do you ever sometimes feel like one of your friends isn't being totally honest with you? Like they're lying to you for your own good?"

Her face scrunched with concern. "Is something the matter Ann?"

"It's nothing really," Ann said, biting down on her thumb. "I just feel like someone I know might not be telling me the whole truth about something, that's all."

That certainly didn't constitute 'nothing really' in Haru's mind. "Um... if you don't mind me asking, who is it that isn't telling you the truth?"

"It's… it's embarrassing."

"Oh... Well, if that's the case, I won't pry."

"But I want you to pry!" Ann suddenly shouted, which caused Haru to jolt. Suddenly remembering her shame, she spoke again, this time a whisper, "I mean, it's just that I've been thinking about this a lot… and I feel like I'm gonna explode if I don't tell at least someone what I'm thinking. I know it's embarrassing… but I want to get this off my chest. I'm tired of keeping it to myself."

"If you need to talk, I'm always an open shoulder," Haru said.

Ann surrendered with a sigh. "Okay. But if I tell you, can you promise me you won't tell anyone else?"

She placed a hand over her heart. "I won't tell a soul."

Ann swallowed, the dry sides of her throat rubbing together for a moment. Then she drew in a short, gulping breath and let the words fly from her lips. "I feel like Ryuji still holds a grudge towards me but I want to tell him how I feel about him but I'm also afraid it might ruin our friendship if he doesn't feel the same way about me and seeing how I already ruined our friendship once before I don't want to take that risk again." Her lips pressed into a line after she had finished.

Forget telling another soul. At the speed Ann spoke, Haru would have been lucky to repeat what she just said to herself. Her explanation came so fast that she hardly had time to analyze it. Ann ruined her friendship with Ryuji? When did that happen? Before the Phantom Thieves formed? And what exactly did she mean when she said she wanted to tell Ryuji how she felt about him? Did she mean as a friend? Or something more? Starting with the first question on her mind, Haru reiterated, "You ruined your friendship with Sakamoto-kun once before...?"

Ann's gaze retreated to the floor, unmoving and filled with anguish. "Yeah. After Kamoshida broke his leg, Ryuji was labeled as a delinquent by the whole school. He was always known for being a troublemaker, but that incident completely isolated him. The track team, his middle school friends, all of them started drifting away from him one by one because they didn't want to be associated with him. Including me. I saw how much he was hurting but I didn't do anything about it. I just sat back and watched because I was too scared to do anything."

Haru's gaze became sympathetic. "You can't blame yourself for that, Ann. Kamoshida was a despicable person. He tore apart your friendship with Ryuji, not you."

"But I could have at least tried to keep in touch with him. I was just so scared of what everyone else thought, of what they'd think of me if I associated with Ryuji. So I ignored him. I ignored one of my best friends out of fear."

Haru ruminated on everything Ann had to say. When she was finished compiling her thoughts into words, she asked, "Do you think you would abandon him again?"

Ann was surprised by the bluntness of Haru's response. "Huh?"

"Do you think if something like that happened again, you would abandon Sakamoto-kun?" Haru repeated.

She vehemently shook her head, her twin pigtails whipping in her face. "No way! After everything I put him through, there's no way I'd abandon him again. I'd rather face down ten Kamoshidas."

"Then you shouldn't worry about ruining your friendship," Haru smiled. "You've learned from your past mistakes. You won't let him down like that again."

Her reasoning was sound, Ann thought. But everyone's reasoning was sound it was exactly what she wanted to hear. "Maybe… But even then, it's not like I can just tell him how I feel about him," she replied with a sigh.

"How come?" Haru asked.

"Because I'm afraid if I do and he doesn't feel the same way back, things will be weird between us and he'll start drifting away again." Ann's gaze fell to her lap as she squeezed her knees. "I know it sounds selfish, but I don't want to lose him as a friend. Not again."

Haru could tell by the look on Ann's face that she had thought about this at length. She looked introspective, nervous, like she was afraid the ground would disappear beneath her feet. "Well... what if I talked to him for you?"

Ann's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline. "Huh?! W-wait! I thought you said you wouldn't tell anyone!"

"I wouldn't mention you by name," Haru said. "I would just ask Ryuji if he's interested in anyone and perhaps let him know that someone is interested in him back. That way, you'll be able to see what he thinks of you and things won't be awkward."

Ann pensively chewed her bottom lip. "You know... that's actually a really good idea," she hummed. "Ryuji wouldn't suspect it was me who liked him if you were the one asking, and you'd probably get an honest answer from him." Coming to terms with the plan, her disposition began to relax. "But whatever happens, you absolutely, one-hundred percent cannot mention my name. Okay?"

Haru traced her fingers across her lips as if she were closing a ziplock bag.

"Alright, okay. Awesome." Ann exhaled and brushed the hair back from her forehead. "Sorry for being so jumpy, I just really don't want to mess things up between Ryuji and me, you know? But I really do appreciate what you're doing for me. You're a lifesaver."

"Of course Ann," Haru said. "I know you'd do the same for me."

Ann's face lit up with a smile. Before she could reply, she felt her stomach growl pitifully like a car chugging along with no gas in its tank. All this shopping and talking seemed to have worked up her appetite. Thankfully she knew just the place to sate it.

"Hey Haru, if you're free, there's this nice restaurant nearby where we can grab dinner. Wanna go?"

* * *

 _ **October 30, 6:57pm  
Cafe Leblanc**_

The only sound that dared disturb the quiet of the room was the drip of water from the sink faucet.

 _Plink. Plink. Plink._

Sae impaled Akira Kurusu with her gaze. Eyes slitted, jaw tensed, lips curled, she asked, "Do you know Ichiryusai Madarame?"

Akira knew lethal intent when he saw it. His heart pounded in his chest. "I don't."

She cast him a skeptical glower. "He's a famous painter. Until recently, he was one of the most renowned artists in Japan. But it's come to light that a great many of his paintings were actually forgeries."

"That's terrible," was the only thing Akira could say without his voice breaking.

"Yes, it is," Sae said. "These crime were revealed by Madrame himself after his heart was stolen by the Phantom Thieves."

He thought of saying something but instead held his lips together like two pieces of driftwood a drowning man clung to.

"An anonymous source recently sent my department a security video from Madarame's house. It's dated a few days before his change of heart," Sae said. "In the video the following individuals were identified: Ichiryusai Madarame, the victim in question, Yusuke Kitagawa, one of Madarame's pupils, Ann Takamaki, a student at Shujin Academy… and a black cat with blue eyes." Sae stared hard at Akira. He knew exactly what she was thinking. "I'll have to look at the video in more detail when I get back to the station, but from what I saw, the cat looked just like yours. Just like Morgana."

Akira wet his tongue over his lips — it produced a sound in his head like sandpaper running across a board. How did Sae get that video? Who could have possibly been the anonymous source? His gaze diverted away from Sae's and into the kitchen. He watched those brazen drops of water form on the snout of the sink faucet, grow heavy and fat there, and then fall off.

 _Plink. Plink. Plink._

 _Ring._

The bell at the front entrance of the cafe jingled. The cherry oak door opened with a long, creaky moan, and both Akira and Sae turned to see what had stepped through.

Neither of them were prepared for who it was.

Billowy red eye shadow plumed the rims of her lids. Liner dark as midnight framed her striking crimson gaze. Four lacquered layers of carefully applied mascara pronounced her long, butterfly lashes.

"... Sis? What are you doing here?"

Makoto Niijima was many things to Akira. A senpai, a friend, a confidant. But it wasn't until he saw her standing there in the entrance of _Leblanc_ , the spitting image of beauty in that gorgeous red dress, that he considered her beautiful. He drank in her image as she approached the bar, his eyes falling over her figure like fingers through silk. The roundness of her bare shoulder made the bone above it more visible, but not unappealingly so. It rose and tempted his eyes to trace her collarbone to the shallow dimple of her throat. Her legs, which exposed themselves up to her thighs with each of her measured steps, were carved like marble, seamless and smooth. The hypnotic sway of her hips mimicked the motion of a swinging pendulum, and he was quite sure he lost himself in their movement. He sucked in a breath between his teeth and held it there. "Wow."

But despite the beauty she radiated, Makoto did not well with confidence. In fact it appeared just the opposite. Her arms were bent behind her back, her gaze was downcast, and her shoulders were raised. She was like a child lost in a mall, nervous and tight with tension. After all, she was standing before her date and her sister, and between the two of them she didn't know which was more embarrassing to maintain eye contact with. Stopping at the front of the counter, she tucked in a strand of loose hair behind her ear and swallowed. "It's... nice to see you again, sis."

Sae stared at her younger sister, her eyes round and her jaw slackened. Questions immediately began swimming in her head. Wasn't Makoto in her room when she left for _Leblanc_? How was she here now? If she had left after her, she should have still been on the subway. Was that her red dress she was wearing? Why was she here? Wasn't she supposed to meet someone for a…?

Date.

Like a scene straight out of a horror movie, Sae's head slowly turned until she was giving Akira a sidelong glance over her shoulder. "Makoto," she said aloud, her voice low and threatening. "You were going to go on a date… with Akira Kurusu?"

Akira prayed to whatever gods would listen to him to send help.

 _Ring._

"Hey, sorry I took so long. The damn bank called, and…"

Sojiro Sakura, who had finally returned from his errand, stopped in his tracks as he entered _Leblanc_. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, and he studied the scene before him with slow, daunted care.

First there was Makoto Niijima, standing by the door, garbed in a beautiful red dress and made up to look like a queen.

Second there was Sae Niijima, sitting by the bar, wearing a scowl so sharp it could cut through the toughest of demeanors.

And last there was Akira, sitting next to Sae by the counter, looking back at him with the same amount of shock, surprise, and stupefaction plastered across his own face.

He looked at Makoto, then Sae, then Akira, then Makoto once more. Then he ran a hand up his widow's peak, pulled his hair back, and let out a deep, chest deflating sigh.

"Hoo boy."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hi friends! I hope you're all having a great week. Thank you for all the well wishes regarding my mother. She has made a swift and full recovery and is doing much better now.

I took a break from writing _three words_ last week to spend time with family after my mother's car accident. During that time I read Stephen King's _On Writing_ , a memoir of King's life and love for writing. The book is chock full of amazing advice for aspiring writers. I highly recommend reading it not only because it is a spectacular literary resource but because it touches upon some deeply important life topics, like how to follow your passions, how to deal with stress and loss, and how to live life to the fullest.

This week's chapter was a lot of fun to write, though I hope it wasn't too long. I enjoy exploring the relationships between the Phantom Thieves, especially ones that don't get a lot of interaction together in the game. The Ryuji and Yusuke scene pretty much wrote itself because I was having such a great time writing it. The Haru and Ann scene was a little more difficult, but hopefully I captured their likenesses in their interactions. I also really enjoyed writing Sae's scene. It was fun to create a lighthearted atmosphere in the first half, then follow it up with an incredibly serious and tense atmosphere in the second. Overall I thought I was able to do a lot of character building while still progressing the plot, so I'm very happy!

I usually listen to music whenever I write to help me visualize a scene or feel a certain mood. This week, I couldn't help but match songs to characters. Like, if each character had a soundtrack to their lives, what songs would be on them? I came to the conclusion that Ryuji's life soundtrack had to at least contain Seven Nation Army, Thunderstruck, and Teenagers, they just seem to fit his personality so well.

On a final note, it's September and my final year of high school will be starting soon! However, this won't change my update schedule for _three words_. I'll continue putting out chapters either weekly or biweekly depending on the chapter in question. Chapter eight should be out in two weeks or less depending on how much I can get done in these next few days. I'm really excited to wrap up the first big arc of the story!

Also, in case anyone is interested, the following is the current love situation within the Phantom Thieves:

* * *

 _ **Morgana**_ → _ **Ann**_

 _ **Ann**_ → _ **Ryuji**_

 _ **Ryuji**_ → _ **Makoto**_

 _ **Makoto**_ → _ **Akira**_

 _ **Haru**_ → _ **Akira**_

 _ **Futaba**_ → _ **Akira**_

 _ **Akira**_ → _ **?**_

 _ **Akechi**_ → _ **?**_

 _ **Yusuke**_ → _ **Aesthetically Pleasing Art**_

* * *

Thank you all again for your kind words and wishes. I hope you all have a great Labor Day weekend. See you next time, friends!

 **NEXT TIME:** priestess iii


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